Have I Become The Enemy
by McGonnemort
Summary: The Trio set out on one last mission when they realize that Professor McGonagall has mysteriously gone missing. Now complete!
1. I Will Live Again

I WILL LIVE AGAIN

1956

"I have to admit that I was slightly surprised when your application arrived."

"I know it may seem unorthodox and perhaps a little abrupt, but what has happened cannot be undone. I realize this and have decided that life must go on; I must try to move on."

"I cannot agree more. Nor can I say that there has been a better qualified candidate for the position. But what I am unsure of is the delicate emotional state you must be in after what you have only just been through. I only bring this up out of concern for your wellbeing."

"If spoken by any other person I would take offense. But I know where your heart is and that is what is going to help get me through this. And believe me when I say I will get through this."

"Do you really think it will be that easy?"

"I know it will not be easy. I will never forget, nor will I ever forgive. So I will try to move on, go forward and do whatever is necessary to ensure what happened to me never happens to anyone else."

"I do not believe he would even be interested in anyone other than you."

"I know and that's what frightens me."


	2. Every Answer Counted

EVERY ANSWER COUNTED

1998

The dust had settled and they were only just taking any real inventory of the damage done to the castle and the people fighting within its walls. Harry, Hermione and Ron were all taking a much needed rest before they faced the inevitable questions that would follow them for years to come. However they refused to think on that as they literally crawled into bed after perhaps the longest morning of their young lives.

Hermione was the first up the following morning and she slowly made her way from Gryffindor Tower down to the Great Hall. There were still loads of people and there was a mixture of elation and sadness. Lord Voldemort was finally gone but at a cost greater than they could have ever, or wanted to imagine. She spotted the rest of the Weasley clan and walked over to them.

"Oh Hermione, dear, it's so good to see you," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed genuinely as she took Hermione into a warm hug. The younger witch returned it and stepped back in order to see her face.

"Mrs. Weasley have you slept at all?"

The Weasley matriarch slowly shook her head, her gaze automatically going in the direction of where Fred's body was laid in the next room over. They were waiting a few days in which to give a proper burial to the many that had died. The pain was still so new and so shocking that Hermione fought back sudden tears. This was the part that she had dreaded from the beginning of their mission; the aftermath of battle. Fred's death was one in a long line of many. However she knew that there were still so many alive that the support they would all receive from one another would help in dealing with the tragedy.

"You look rested," Mrs. Weasley said after a long pause in which Hermione's mind had rambled on.

"Yes, well a nap will do that to you." Ron commented. He had just entered with Harry following close behind. Hermione noticed that Harry's eyes were sweeping the Hall probably in search for Ginny.

"Ronald." Mrs. Weasley took her youngest son in her arms and hugged him fiercely and then did the same with Harry.

"I cannot tell you how proud I am of you three."

They all nodded sheepishly. Harry caught sight of Ginny and excused himself while Ron went off to find Neville, saying something about wanting his side of the story. Hermione was left and she gladly kept Mrs. Weasley company. Mr. Weasley had taken off with Charlie and Bill to help with the clean up.

Hermione eventually noticed the absence of her favorite professor.

"Mrs. Weasley, have you seen Professor McGonagall?"

"No dear, haven't all morning. I expect she's off somewhere helping the wounded or some such thing. Just like her to keep on going even when she herself needs help." Mrs. Weasley continued to prattle on about her own feelings on the good professor and Hermione knew that she was talking for the sake of talking.

The day wore on and Hermione did what she could to help in between the endless questions that were thrown at her. Eventually she grew tired of answering and found herself wandering the castle. It wasn't quite destroyed but it would take quite a bit of effort to restore it to its original state. She was about to go and ask Professor McGonagall how they would go about the restoration but stopped when she realized that she had no idea where the professor was. In fact, she hadn't seen her all day and everyone she asked also had no idea. Odd that the Headmistress be absent without telling someone where she went, especially someone as responsible as McGonagall.

Something wasn't quite right. Hermione had a bad feeling that she couldn't shake. Unconsciously she had made her way to the Transfigurations classroom, well what was left of it. The windows had all been shattered, most of the desks were either toppled over or lay in pieces, the desk that had served McGonagall so well over the past thirty some years was half destroyed. Hermione found herself sitting at her usual desk, one of only a few that had survived. The sunlight was pouring in through the open windows and the wind carried a slight hint of flowers that undoubtedly came from the greenhouses. Looking around at the damaged room she suddenly began to cry; part relief and part complete devastation. She would not have thought the absence of Professor McGonagall would have hit her so hard and so suddenly but she had always known Hogwarts as having the strict professor's presence. Now that it was gone it just didn't seem right. Her tears finally stopped and she managed to calm down telling herself that if McGonagall were in trouble than this was no time to fall apart.

Making up her mind to find out what had happened to McGonagall she purposefully walked to where she knew the professor's personal chambers were. She knocked loudly and received no answer. Brazenly she unlocked it, stepped inside and gasped at the disarray. The two chairs facing the fireplace were knocked over along with the table that normally sat between them. This was no result of the battle but of a struggle. Someone had gotten in here and there was a scuffle. There were scorch marks on the wall and blood trailing the floor leading to the fireplace. Hermione looked over the entire room not letting any detail escape her attention. Reaching the bedroom she only felt slightly uncomfortable for invading the woman's privacy but if she were really in trouble then Hermione needed to check everything for clues or answers.

The bedroom was untouched except for the bed which only held rumpled sheets, evidence of someone having slept in them. So the professor had spent the night in her room that much Hermione could be sure of. Whoever had taken her, for she refused to think anything else, must have shown up sometime in the morning. The blood leading to the fireplace must mean that she was dragged and then flooed away. Taking a closer look at the fireplace she noticed that one of the stones right below the mantle was sticking further out than the rest.

Carefully she began to tug on it and let out a surprised yelp when it came away. Having no doubt that this could very well be something vital she peered in through the small opening. Seeing nothing but absolute blackness she boldly thrust her hand in. Instantly she was pulled in by some magical force and just as quickly found her feet on flat ground again.

Astonished, Hermione quickly checked her surroundings. She was in a small perfectly circular room with no windows, no doors and no visible light source except for a pedestal right in the center that emitted a soft blue light. Walking closer she found that the light was coming from a Pensieve sitting atop a wooden table. Heart racing she stepped closer. The pedestal stood two feet wide and came to her waist. The bottom looked as though it stored something but there were no doors, no handles, or anything that looked like an opening, just small elegant writing carved into the wood around the Pensieve. Needing more light she pulled her wand out to read it and noted that it was McGonagall's neat hand writing.

_Each morning I appear_

_To lie at your feet_

_All day I will follow_

_No matter how fast you run_

_Yet I nearly perish_

_In the midday sun._

She sat and thought for a moment contemplating the answer. It wasn't a particular hard riddle by the professor's standards, nor anything too complicated. There must be a personal connotation behind it and Hermione wasn't sure if her answer would suit what McGonagall would deem a correct answer. And even if she did come up with the correct answer how was she supposed to present it? Without meaning to she blurted out the answer.

"Shadow," her voice came out sharply in the silence and there was no mistaking the soft click as a handle appeared. She pulled gently revealing a shelf filled with vials containing what could only be memories.

"This must be Professor McGonagall's personal memories," Hermione mused out loud. Feeling a little more uncomfortable about this than entering the bedroom she reasoned that once again the safety of said professor quite outweighed her feelings. So she read the labels carefully and noticed that they were all labeled with numbers. Knowing it's always best to start at number one she plucked it out of the holder and held it over the swirling liquid. Delicately pouring the memory in Hermione stood for a long moment thinking about the possible ramifications of entering Professor McGonagall's very personal thoughts and memories. However her intuition was screaming at her that this was right so she stuck her head in and landed in McGonagall's bathroom. Minerva appeared and she was standing in front of her mirror looking as though the world was on her shoulders. It must have been a recent memory and Hermione had to wonder why this was the first. She watched as McGonagall opened and shut her mouth several times, obviously at war with herself for what she wanted to say first. Finally she began to speak staring at her reflection.

"I have no idea how to start to even explain the events leading to the situation I find myself in. Therefore I have decided the best choice of action was to put all of my relevant memories in chronological order." She stopped and hung her head and Hermione could feel the despair rolling off of her.

"If this is being viewed then my worst nightmare has come true; something I fervently hoped would never happen. That is the reason I have pulled these specific memories, to help aid in the fight. I would not be so haughty as to assume they would be used solely to save me, for that time has long since passed." She raised her head and looked directly into the mirror. "If I am indeed missing do not waste your time in searching for me; I have been taken by Tom Riddle. Lord Voldemort."


	3. Blind As Shame

BLIND AS SHAME

Ron looked around the Great Hall in search of Hermione and could not find her. He hadn't seen her since he left her with his mom. Mrs. Weasley hadn't seen her for a few hours and Ron decided that she must have gone for a walk wanting some alone time. In his sweep of the Hall he found Harry sitting with Ginny.

"Oi!"

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley admonished sternly as her son's voice rung out loudly.

"But mum, hero," he explained pointing to his chest as though that could excuse his rather rude behavior.

"Hero or not, manners young man."

"Yeah yeah," he mumbled and then turned to face Harry who had walked over with Ginny. "Have you seen Hermione?"

"Not recently," Ginny answered.

"Ginny dear can you help me?"

Ginny turned to face her mother who was levitating plates of food out to the people working on the grounds.

"Sure mum, be there in one second." Ginny answered and turned to the two. "She's been going like this all day, hasn't there got to be a breaking point? I'm worried she's going to run herself ragged."

"That's probably why she's working so hard," Harry commented softly and all three became silent. The death of their brother and one of Harry's good friends still bore such raw pain that it was hard to believe it had actually happened.

"Well I should go, least I can do." Ginny mumbled and headed off to where her mother had disappeared outside.

"I wonder where Herm--" Ron began but was interrupted when Hermione herself flew into the Hall and raced toward them. Her face was flushed and her eyes were almost wild.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked and his hand instantly went to his wand.

"Yes, yes I'm fine. Listen you have to come with me." She answered but they just stood there staring at her. "Please, now. You have to see this."

"Alright, but can we eat first?" Ron asked, gazing longingly to the platters of food drifting past them occasionally.

"Ron seriously," Hermione said in a huff. "You really need to see what I've found. You won't believe it."

Finally getting through to them, the three of them once more set out, Hermione explaining on the way about the bad feelings she was getting from McGonagall being absent. Ron was skeptical but Harry knew all too well how much his instincts had helped in the fight against Voldemort. They reached Professor McGonagall's chambers and Hermione rushed in leaving the boys feeling uncomfortable out in the corridor.

"Honestly you two, she's not here. C'mon."

"After you mate," Ron said in a rather grand tone. Harry glared at him but stepped into the room and couldn't stop his mouth from falling open. Ron swore as he too took in the scene of their neat and tidy professor's room now in shambles.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Well from what I can gather from the mess I think she was taken. That's not the strangest part either." Hermione explained hurriedly and led them to the fireplace.

"Is that blood?" Ron asked. "And what do you mean 'not the strangest part'?"

"I mean the fact that she was taken isn't as important as the why."

"Seriously you can stop talking in riddles."

"Ron please try and keep up," she quipped as she tugged on the stone leading into the secret room.

"Hermione how do you know for sure she was taken?" Harry piped up.

"Her bed was slept in which suggests she spent the night in the castle yet no one has seen her all morning."

"It's actually nearing dinner time now," Ron commented as he watched Hermione pull the stone free. She sighed in frustration and the stone hit the floor as she angrily let it drop.

"Would you get your mind off food and focus?"

"So if she slept in her bed," Harry began and effectively cut off the argument which would have certainly followed "the intruder must have caught her off guard when she entered the main room. I've seen her duel and it's no laughing matter; mad skills for a witch her age."

"True. And she's not that old Harry, witches live much longer than muggles and she is the equivalent of what muggles would refer to as their mid-life."

"So maybe she's having a mid-life crisis or something." Ron said, not knowing that he would receive glares, or that he had used a very muggle term. "What?"

"Never mind Ronald," Hermione turned from him and faced Harry. "That combined with the blood trail leading to the fireplace suggests that the intruder must have used that as a means to escape. While I was looking for that I found this," she pointed excitedly to the hole left behind when she removed the stone. Both looked at her expectantly.

"The stone covering it was sticking out so I pulled on it and you won't believe what I found. Here just stick your hand in there."

Neither of them moved at first but then Harry shrugged his shoulders and walked forward. He gave them one last look before he plunged his hand in and was instantly sucked in.

"Bloody hell."

"Exactly, it's rather ingenious if you ask me." Hermione responded to Ron's exclamation. "Now it's your turn, go on then."

Ron did as he was told and disappeared as well with Hermione not far behind. Now all three were standing in the dark room, Harry and Ron looking around in much the same way Hermione had the first time she had entered.

"Brilliant," Harry noted with something close to awe in his voice.

"Nothing short of, she was the Transfigurations professor." Hermione couldn't help the pride creeping into her own voice.

"Either way this is wicked cool. I understand how exciting this is, but why is it so important?" Ron asked with genuine interest and Hermione strode over to the pedestal.

"It's Professor McGonagall's Pensieve, one that she obviously didn't want just anyone to find."

"Yeah lucky thing you've got such a keen eye." Ron complimented and Hermione fought the blush threatening to rise.

"Anyway, I thought it rather strange that she keep a Pensieve here without any memories nearby. So I looked closer and saw writing on the side, turns out it was a riddle to be solved in order to open the compartment holding her memories."

"So obviously what you saw in said memories is what is important." Harry noted.

"Yes, but its useless to explain what I saw. I've only just watched the one and you really need to see it for yourself."

Simultaneously, with much trepidation on the boys' behalf, they touched the liquid and were instantly transported to McGonagall's bathroom. Hermione watched it again, this time looking for anything she might have missed the first time. Harry and Ron were shocked by what they were hearing and even more so when they learned she had known Voldemort, or Tom Riddle as she knew him.

Coming back to reality they stood facing each other. Hermione could tell by their expressions that they didn't know how to respond or what to make of it.

"Don't you know what this means?"

"No, not really," Ron answered bluntly.

"It means that whoever has Professor McGonagall must be a supporter of Voldemort. It can't be him because he's dead, you killed him Harry. McGonagall was still here even after he died."

"Which leaves us at square one about where she is," Harry pointed out.

"True, but we still have all these memories to go through. There's bound to be some answers in all this." She indicated the shelf filled with vials.

"If all else it should be very interesting." Ron said and rubbed his hands together. "Let's get to work then shall we?"

"Wait, are we really going to watch all of these memories?" Harry asked giving the vials a doubtful look.

"Yes we are." Hermione responded strongly. Ron shrugged his shoulders and plucked out the second vial.

"Wonder what's in this one," he mused.

"That's what we're going to find out." Hermione answered, her eyes going bright.

"I don't know if it's a good thing you're so excited about this," Harry pointed out as he stepped up to the Pensieve.


	4. Taste I Can't Ignore

TASTE I CAN'T IGNORE

Harry, Ron and Hermione landed in Diagon Alley noting that there were slight differences which suggested they were in a different time. Their thoughts were confirmed when a young Minerva McGonagall walked past them.

"Bloody hell," Ron swore. "Never thought I'd say this about one of my professors, but she is hot."

"Very astute of you Ron," Hermione grumbled. She really couldn't blame him; Professor McGonagall cut quite the figure. They began trailing her and soon noticed that not just Ron was affected by her appearance; it seems as though every wizard and even some witches gave a double look.

The young Minerva had short curly black hair, bright green eyes, and a very aristocratic jaw line all graced with perfect skin. She was not wearing her glasses, yet she had a pair hung around her neck by a delicate gold chain. In her arms were several heavy looking books that she was clutching while also speeding along giving the impression she was perhaps short for time. As she walked down the street many people stopped to say hello and offer their congratulations on her new position in the Ministry and she gracefully gave each of them a kind response before once more assuming her rapid speed.

All three were a bit surprised to learn of her working at the Ministry. They had never actually given any thought to what she had done before her time at Hogwarts. It only made sense that someone as competent as she would find a job at the Ministry; but what department and how long had she been working? Hermione needed to know the year and rushed to find the next person with a newspaper.

"It's 1945," she breathed as she sprinted to catch up to the boys and Minerva who was walking so fast that she nearly ran into a man walking out of a shop.

"Oh, excuse me," Minerva said and continued walking without really acknowledging the man.

"Minerva? Minerva McGonagall?"

"Yes?" Minerva turned and her mouth opened slightly in surprise. "Tom Riddle? Whatever are you doing here?"

Harry's fists clenched. He wanted nothing more than to take out his wand and send the man onto the next life. But it was only a memory and he could nothing as he watched, along with a very shocked Ron and Hermione, the way in which Tom charmed Minerva. He really knew how to worm his way into people's good graces and Minerva was no exception. In fact she seemed completely out of character; nervous and on edge. It was as though she too could feel the dark vibes coming from the future Dark Lord but was powerless to stop the emotions he caused in her. How Harry knew all this was beyond him but it did not diminish the absolute certainty he had.

"I hear congratulations are in order." Tom said smoothly and took the heavy books out of Minerva's arms without asking if she even wanted him to. She looked affronted for a short moment but accepted his aid.

"Yes, thank you."

After realizing that was all the response he was going to get, Tom asked, "So do they have you pushing papers or some other such dull work?"

"Not precisely, although sometimes I do find it exceedingly dull when having to work with some of the more incompetent employees. As I'm sure you know as well as I about having to deal with incompetence." Minerva said and Tom nodded. They walked further on without comment, the trio following completely wrapped up in the memory.

So when the scene suddenly dissolved they were surprised as it transitioned to the Ministry of Magic. Once again Minerva appeared and she walked briskly through the entrance hall and made her way to the elevator.

"Blimey, she's an Unspeakable!" Ron exclaimed as he recognized the robes that Minerva was wearing.

"Interesting," Hermione noted. "I wonder why she put this in here; I mean other than just for the fact that--"

"What is it?" Harry asked as Hermione trailed off.

"Unless she means to point out why Tom Riddle was so charming to her. He must have known somehow that she worked as an Unspeakable and the attraction of that would have been great to him. Think about it, Unspeakables work with some of the most complex, difficult and downright dangerous magic known, and in most cases unknown." Hermione finished with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Yeah I bet Voldemort was just drooling to get his hands on information like that." Harry said darkly.

"Wait, how do you know so much about what an Unspeakable does anyway?" Ron asked as they watched Minerva disappear into the elevator.

Hermione ducked her head and mumbled, "I had given it some thought as a career."

"Oh, right then." Ron responded flatly.

Before anything else could be said the scene dissolved and they were once again in the streets of Diagon Alley. This time Minerva was walking arm in arm with Tom Riddle. It was obvious that some time had elapsed since the last memory with the way they were so comfortable with each other. If they were seeing it right, Tom no longer looked at Minerva as though she was only good for the information she could provide. It was unsettling to see the Dark Lord with anything other than pure blood lust in his eyes. When aimed at Minerva they saw the soft side of Voldemort that none knew existed. However the most shocking of all was the affection that Minerva herself showed toward Tom.

Several similar scenes flashed by showing the development of a rather peculiar relationship between their professor and the darkest wizard to date. Many included stolen kisses and lingering touches that left Minerva flushed and Tom excited. However, the trio had no idea just how far the relationship went, both physically and emotionally between the two unlikely pair. Had Professor McGonagall purposefully left out certain scenes or were the memories all there was to it?

The rapid flashes of memories stopped and the three were left feeling slightly overwhelmed by the amount they had seen. They had landed once more in Professor McGonagall's bathroom, once more the age they knew her as. She was looking in the mirror and began talking.

"I have pulled these memories in order to show you the depth of Tom's feelings toward me. In no way do I believe he actually loved me. No, rather he saw me as a possession. Maybe that was love to him, I don't know. All I know is that I was his whether I knew what I was getting into or not; whether I wanted to or not. My feelings escalated at an alarming rate and I found myself utterly fascinated by him."

"Scary isn't it? Talking to yourself in a mirror knowing what's going to happen," Ron muttered and the other two glared at him.

Professor McGonagall started to talk once more after taking a moment to collect her thoughts. "The next memory I have decided to include will show just how," she stopped to think of an appropriate word, "bitter Tom became after the defeat of Grindelwald by Albus, Professor Dumbledore." She sighed heavily and continued. "I was only just beginning to realize just how dark Tom's intentions were but was powerless to stop the way I felt for him, I just wanted to be with him. But I could not ignore the complete animosity that he held for Albus, someone whom I looked up to."

That memory faded and they were now standing in a room lit only by a fireplace, shadows dancing across the room in sporadic and mesmerizing patterns. Minerva was seated at the one nearest the fire reading a large book while Tom sat further away in the shadows. He was reading the Daily Prophet by wand light, his face scrunched in hostility. Angrily he threw the paper away and stood in a huff. Minerva only gave him a cursory glance before returning to her book.

"How can one man be given so much publicity for one simple act?"

"It wasn't a simple act. He defeated the darkest wizard of the age and lived to tell of it." Minerva responded to the scathing remark. She didn't even need to know what he had been reading, suggesting that they had already discussed this.

"It's bloody embarrassing if you ask me."

"No one did."

"Well they should," Tom returned darkly. Minerva finally put down her book and the trio held their breath unconsciously.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She asked standing and stepping closer to Tom who had now begun to pace agitatedly. "Oh wait, let me guess. It's something to do with those meetings you're always holding in my parlor."

"You go too far woman," Tom growled. They were now face to face; Minerva's a mask of scorn and Tom's wavering between lust and anger.

"Perhaps then you should find another pawn to continue your games." Minerva shot back. For a split second it looked as though Tom might actually strike her but it was gone as fast as it appeared. However, Minerva did not miss it and her face spoke of her hurt.

"You are more to me than just a pawn Minerva." Tom whispered. "You know this yet you continue to throw ridiculous accusations at me. I cannot help who I am, I thought you understood me."

"Don't you dare try to make me into the bad guy; I understand you alright, more than I care to."

Tom sighed and brought his hand to caress her cheek. "Please Minerva, don't be angry at me. I overreacted and it obviously got the better of me."

"Oh Tom," Minerva sighed, leaning into his touch. "Whatever will I do with you?"

He brought her into a tight hug, his lips curling into a sinister smile that she could not see.

"You will forgive me and we'll forget all about it," he answered smoothly.

The trio stood dumbfounded as they were transported out of the Pensieve and back into the circular dark room. Not knowing what to think, let alone what to say, they stared off into space trying to come to grips with the new found information they were handed.

"Well that was…" Hermione tried to speak but closed her mouth after realizing she couldn't find the right words.

"Shocking," Harry supplied.

"Disturbing," Ron added.

"Definitely," Hermione concluded.

"So where does that leave us?" Harry asked.

"Look I know that you'll probably be mad at me, but I seriously can't think while my stomach is trying to eat itself." Ron said sheepishly. His stomach growled right on cue and both Harry and Hermione realized that they were hungry as well. Checking her watch, Hermione realized that it was quite late and dinner sounded rather good.

"You're absolutely right. We'll eat and rest, tomorrow we'll start again." Hermione announced and the two couldn't have been more relieved.

"Makes you wonder though," Harry spoke.

"Yeah," Ron agreed.

"What happened to finally make her realize the danger she was in?" Hermione finished as they left the room, giving the Pensieve one last look.


	5. Willing To Drown

WILLING TO DROWN

Starting again the next day, the three were slightly more prepared for the onslaught of memories they would undoubtedly witness. Hermione had spent the night tossing and turning with strange dreams that had everything to do with Professor McGonagall's memories. She met the two boys in the professor's room with slightly puffy eyes and when questioned about her lack of sleep she could only yawn and gesture toward the secret room they were about to enter.

"Didn't sleep much then huh?" Ron asked as he threw his arm around her shoulders. She leaned her head on him and he squeezed gently. "Don't worry, we'll figure this out. Always do."

"Thanks Ron," Hermione said quietly. "It just seems so surreal. She never gave any indication of ever having known Voldemort, let alone dating him."

"Yeah well, who would want to share that?" Harry asked. He walked over to the fireplace and pulled the stone away. "Who first?"

Ron stepped forward and stuck his hand in and disappeared. Harry looked over at Hermione.

"Are you sure you're up to this?"

"Positive," Hermione answered firmly. "We owe it to her, besides this is a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"Glad I'm not the only one who thought that." Harry responded and then waited for Hermione to disappear before he too stuck his hand through the small opening. Once all of them were in the room, Harry automatically walked over to the Pensieve and stared down into the liquid.

"Right, so here we go." Hermione said as she picked out the third vial and dumped its contents into the bowl. They touched it and were standing in Minerva's living room once again. This time it was sunny and full of light as the trio really examined their surroundings. Minerva certainly liked books as they saw how two whole walls housed shelves full of books, ranging from history to philosophy and even some fiction thrown in. It was more than likely that Minerva also had an additional library seeing as how she always seemed to be reading.

Currently perched on the same chair that she had been when they saw her last time, she was reading the Daily Prophet.

"It's 1947 by the looks of it," Hermione noted.

"Like that helps us at all," Harry said.

"Actually it does," Hermione responded. "That's the year that Tom Riddle disappeared."

"How do you remember all of this?" Ron asked.

"I pay attention," Hermione retorted. "Plus I rather enjoy history and if you had paid attention you would know that too."

"How could anyone pay attention to Binns?" Ron questioned and sent a pleading look to Harry for back up.

"Not just Professor Binns, anyone who happens to listen and pay attention would know that this is the year that Voldemort disappeared from the public eye not to be seen or hear from for ten years." Hermione explained. She lost interest in her conversation with Ron as Minerva stood and began pacing, the newspaper crumpled in her hand. The trio stared in disbelief as they watched tears fall down their professor's face.

"She must be devastated," Hermione commented.

"Why? Do you think Voldemort just up and left without telling her?" Harry asked.

"Possibly," Hermione considered the situation for a moment. "I've never given it much thought, but it would make sense that she was left behind. I mean, he wouldn't jeopardize his plans for fear that she would refuse him and send the Ministry after him."

"But the way she explained it," Ron began, "he thought of her as his. Wouldn't that include taking her with him?"

"Hmm," Hermione hummed.

"Maybe we should just watch and see what happens. So far she hasn't kept us in the dark about what's going on." Harry suggested and the other two nodded.

Turning back to find Minerva pacing they jumped when the fire suddenly blazed to life and Albus Dumbledore stepped into the room. He dusted off his robes and gave Minerva a gentle look, the twinkle in his eyes missing.

"Minerva," he greeted and caught her as she practically launched herself into his arms.

"Oh Albus. Why? Why do I still care?"

"You are human Minerva, despite your rather extraordinary gift." Albus explained as they stepped apart; Minerva looking sheepish for her uncharacteristic action.

"I know it's wrong but I just can't stop missing him. It has been well over two months and there is still no word or sign from him and it's slowly driving me crazy. One moment I'm angry at him, so very angry for leaving me like this. And in the next I miss him and only wish to see and hold him once again." Minerva had begun pacing again, her hands twisting together viciously.

"You know very well how I feel about him and I hate to see you like this. You've almost completely cut yourself off from everyone who cares for you, and in turn who you care for." Albus returned a little sternly.

Minerva stopped pacing but instead of the blow up that the trio had expected she only hung her shoulders. A long silent moment passed while Minerva tried and failed to control her emotions. Sobs started to wrack her body and she covered her face, out of embarrassment or just out of instinct the trio did not know. For his part, Albus looked uncertain of how to act. With a determined look he finally stepped forward and made to envelope Minerva in his arms but she stopped him with a hard shake of her head. He ignored it and hugged her anyway; she resisted at first but melted into his embrace.

"I hate that you're going through this," he spoke quietly and her sobs eased the more time she was in his arms.

"I do too," she responded and then with determination she managed to stop her tears. She rested a moment longer in his embrace and then stepped away and tried valiantly to smile. The tears were shining in the sunlight and she angrily wiped them away.

"I know that you are going through a hard time right now, but please reconsider the position that Armando offered you."

Minerva gave a tiny sigh at Albus' request. "I really do appreciate the offer; I just can't do it right now."

"Does it have anything to do with your job, or everything to do with Tom?" Albus asked. Minerva gave him a sharp look that spoke volumes; she obviously was not pleased with the insinuation.

"Tom does not run my life," she argued and Albus raised his eyebrows.

"I thought that's exactly what he was doing. Look at yourself Minerva; you're falling apart because of a boy who has run off without giving the time of day to let you know where he has gone."

Minerva's eyes widened and it looked as though Albus had delivered a serious blow. Her hand reached behind to grab hold of the armchair, guiding her when she sank into it in a daze. The trio had looked on in wonder as Dumbledore fearlessly threw the truth in Minerva's face when she so obviously refused to see it herself. Hardly able to believe that Dumbledore could be so ruthless, especially to someone he cared deeply for, they watched with wide eyes as Minerva seemed to collect herself.

"You're right," she whispered dejectedly. "I have no one to blame for my state than myself."

"Yes," Albus continued his assault, undoubtedly playing the harsh friend who would go to painful lengths to help a stubborn friend.

Minerva actually laughed, albeit a very harsh and dry laugh.

"As always you know just what to say," she said.

"I try my dear, I try." He responded the sparkle once again in his eyes. "Now how about a spot of breakfast?"

Just like that the scene ended and reappeared in the same room. However this time it was nearly empty save for the armchairs which were covered in white sheets. Minerva bustled in and checked the room over.

"She must be moving out," Harry said. "Wonder what year it is."

"There's no newspaper so unless she mentions it we'll have no way of knowing." Hermione responded as she too looked around the room trying to gain clues as to the timeline. Meanwhile Minerva had grabbed a few random items in her arms and was looking at the room with a wistful look.

"Minerva," someone called out and she turned to face the door with a surprised yelp. The three of them gasped as well when Mad-Eye Moody appeared. He had no scars, no limp, and no magical eye. In fact he looked quite young, positively whole and healthy.

"Alastor," Minerva said breathlessly still clutching her chest. "You startled me."

"Sorry," Alastor said gruffly. "So are you ready?"

"Not quite," she answered and surveyed the room again. "I do believe I will spend one last night here."

Alastor sighed and said, "It's been five years, he's not coming back." Minerva seemed to bristle and turned her fierce gaze on him.

"I'm not staying in hopes he'll come back in the nick of time Alastor," she said hotly and then softened. "Call it nostalgia but there has been many good times had here and it seems only right to stay one last night. Besides, the castle has survived this long without me, what's one more night? The term doesn't start for another two months."

"Alright if that's what you want."

"Yes it is," Minerva affirmed and walked to stand directly in front of him. "Alastor I just want to thank you for your help."

"Of course," he mumbled clearly uncomfortable with the direction of their conversation.

"I'm not just talking about helping me to move, but also the past few years. I'll be the first to admit it, I haven't exactly been myself. Thank you for being there for me."

"Minerva you're my friend, I'll always be here for you." Alastor whispered. The trio could tell that he was embarrassed with the whole thing and were pleasantly surprised when he hugged Minerva tightly.

"Please tell Albus that I'll be there first thing tomorrow morning. I'm sure he'll understand." Minerva explained as she banished the items in her arms, probably to a waiting suitcase.

"Will do, will do," Alastor agreed. "Well then, have a good term. Remember if you need anything you know how to reach me."

"Will do," Minerva responded with a bright smile. One last hug and they parted; Mad-Eye apparating and Minerva surveying the living room once more.

"Thought he'd never leave."

Minerva gasped and swung around only to come face to face with Tom Riddle. She backed away instinctively, breathing heavily from shock. Harry had once more gone for his wand while Hermione and Ron simply stared open mouthed at the scene.

"Tom," Minerva breathed.

"Minerva," Tom whispered, her name sliding off his tongue as though caressing her. He knew the effect it would have on her and his lips tugged in an effort not to smirk. "Cat got your tongue?"

"I don't what you were planning on me saying but it isn't pleasant."

He laughed and it sent chills up Harry, Ron and Hermione's backs. Minerva was simply staring at him as though he were a ghost.

"Why did you come back Tom?"

"I've come, believe it or not, for you. Please Minerva listen to me!" He yelled as Minerva retreated from the room. He followed quickly and caught her arm just as she was starting up the steps leading to the upstairs.

"You lost me years ago, five in fact." Minerva's cool response threw Tom and the trio saw a shadow pass over his face before he managed to mask his feeling again.

"I left for you," he began. "Don't you see? There is so much left to be discovered and I've discovered quite a bit."

"Why not tell me? Why leave with no warning, no word?" She questioned as though the words were being torn from her chest.

"You wouldn't have listened and you certainly would have denied my requests for you to join me. Please Minerva, you have no idea how hard it's been without you. Every second was agony, every night a nightmare. Please," he pleaded and if the trio hadn't known that he was so adept at lying they would have been fooled by him. However, they had that advantage while Minerva did not.

"Merlin Tom, I've missed you."

He wasted no time in pulling her to him and kissing her. She struggled against him momentarily but he stood his ground and soon she relaxed against him, even began kissing him back. The kiss became more heated and the two broke away, Minerva burying her head in the front of his robes. She cried silently and Tom rubbed her back in gentle circles. The trio were concerned when they actually saw true pain in his eyes for what he had put her through.

"Please Minerva, I need you."

She gave a wracking sob, her words muffled by his robes. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear that."

"Too long and for that I am truly sorry," he amended softly.

"Why now? When I've finally decided to move on?"

"I heard rumors of your acceptance to the position of Transfigurations Professor and knew that you might be lost to me forever."

"What makes you think you've got me back?" She questioned as she stood away from him.

"I know because I've never really lost you. For that matter, we've never lost each other. Its fate Minerva, we're meant to be together." Tom argued smoothly, slowly approaching her, pulling out a small box as he went. She watched him closely, the trio hardly believing what might come next.

"Minerva McGonagall, my love, my life, will you marry me?"

With that he opened the box and the most gaudy, oversized diamond ring sparkled in the waning daylight. It was absolutely intoxicating in its tackiness, easily making it the most beautiful ring that the trio had ever seen. And by Minerva's expression she thought the same thing.

"I…I…don't know what to say," came her soft reply. Hermione found herself shaking her head fiercely while the boys scowled darkly.

"Say you'll join me. I promise to make you happy for all eternity." His face was earnest and the trio saw Minerva's resolve crumble like so much dust against a wind storm.

"Yes," she said after only a moment's pause.

"No!" Hermione shouted and the boys turned to stare at her. "Sorry it's just so hard to watch this and not stop her." Harry and Ron nodded gravely and turned back to find the couple in a tight embrace. Relief was clearly etched on Tom's face and it sickened the trio to see how much power he wielded over their strong-willed professor.

"We marry immediately; my presence in London needs to remain unknown." Tom said.

"Oh," was all Minerva could manage. "Where do you think you're taking me then?"

Tom smiled at her teasing tone but only shook his finger. "Not now, you'll find out soon enough."

"Let me grab a few things and we can leave."

The trio followed Minerva as she climbed the stairs and walked to her bedroom. There were suitcases piled near the door and she hastily threw a few items into a small bag pausing when she finished. Biting her lip she conjured a patronus and sent it off with a strange look on her face.

She quickly snatched the bag up in one hand and practically ran down the hallway, her feet carrying her gracefully down the stairs to where Tom waited. He noticed her flushed face and caught her in a tight hug once again kissing her soundly.

And holding her just like that he apparated her away.


	6. Just Remember I Win

JUST REMEMBER I WIN

Exiting Professor McGonagall's room Hermione, Ron and Harry were all reeling with the discovery that she had actually agreed to marry Tom Riddle. Of all the things to happen that was the last thing expected making it very hard to comprehend just how much McGonagall was involved. The thought of an actual marriage between the two was almost too much to think about.

"Well that was…unexpected." Ron commented after they had walked for a bit.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"How could she?" Hermione asked to no one in particular. "After all he put her through, not to mention the obvious changes in him, she still followed him."

"We don't know for sure that they got married. Maybe she decided to call it off," Harry pointed out rather hopelessly. Hermione snorted and Ron gave her a funny look.

"Sure that would have gone over well." She explained. "Look he said it himself, they never really let go of one another even throughout his absence. And let's not forget just how persuasive he was."

"Too true," Ron muttered and before he could open his mouth Hermione interrupted.

"Before you say it, yes I do agree that we ought to eat some lunch. I have a feeling we'll need it."

"Excellent," Ron said rubbing his hands together gleefully. "All this drama sure does stir up an appetite."

They made it to the Great Hall just in time to see Mr. Weasley enter with Bill and Charlie trailing behind.

"So that's where you three are," Mr. Weasley said as he clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Disappearing off somewhere, good thing Ron here has such a routine appetite."

Ron blushed slightly and muttered something about going to see if lunch was ready. They watched him walk off and Mr. Weasley turned to them with a serious look.

"I don't need to know exactly what you three are up to, but I do want to know if it's dangerous. Or if we should be concerned," he added as Hermione's face closed up.

"Not really," Harry started slowly and looked to Hermione to see if he should continue.

She sighed but said, "No you shouldn't be concerned for anyone's safety here."

Mr. Weasley gave her a sharp look. "What does that mean? Anyone here?"

"Look Mr. Weasley I can't go into details but I can tell you that we're investigating the disappearance of Professor McGonagall." Hermione clarified.

"Didn't know we were considering her missing," Mr. Weasley noted.

"So how are we going to go about the search?" Charlie asked after having heard the conversation.

"You're not going to do anything," Hermione said simply and when she received several questioning glares she elaborated. "We're still gathering information but when we learn more we will let you know. And yes we really will, I promise," she reiterated as they all regarded her with doubtful expressions. She grabbed Harry's arm and practically dragged him away from the three Weasley's.

"Hermione we could use their help," he argued softly.

"Yes I agree. But right now I feel we should be the only ones to see those memories. I'm sure Professor McGonagall wouldn't want everyone knowing what's in them."

"Okay," Harry gave in after a moment.

"Good, now let's eat."

The two walked over to Ron who was eating like there was no tomorrow, the massive pile of mashed potatoes already half eaten. Hermione sat next to him and Harry sat across the table and was joined shortly by Ginny.

"So where have you guys been all morning?" She asked serving herself some food.

"Ginny you have to understand that some things are better left to the masters," Ron said through a mouthful of food.

"Oh ha ha," she countered and looked at Harry. "Really what have you been up to?"

Harry looked over to Hermione who gave him a small nod to explain.

"Have you noticed that McGonagall is missing?" He began hoping to segue into an explanation. At her hesitant nod he continued, "Well that's what we've been doing; trying to find out where she is."

"Simple as that?" Ginny questioned.

"It's a bit more complicated, but basically, yeah." Hermione offered.

"Can I help?"

"I don't think so," Harry said quickly, "not now at least. But we promise that when we know more, we'll let everyone know."

Ginny looked at all three of them closely and slowly nodded. "Alright fine, but you had better let mum know because she's been a wreck not knowing where you've been."

"Yeah sure," Ron agreed and caught sight of his mother walking toward them as if on cue. Upon reaching them she questioned them much the same way as her family had and they gave the same answers. Temporarily satisfied, Mrs. Weasley left, dragging Ginny with her.

"So why are we not telling people?" Ron asked after a particular long drink of pumpkin juice.

"Because Ron, they are Professor McGonagall's personal memories, very personal. I feel invasive enough as it is with just the three of us watching; I can't imagine letting everyone watching them." Hermione explained patiently.

"I agree, but we will need to tell them sometime. It's shaping up to be quite complicated; her abductor could be involved on a seriously intricate level." Harry noted and pushed his plate away.

"No joke," Ron agreed.

"Okay, so do we want to have another go or should we wait till tomorrow?" Hermione asked eager to begin again.

"Definitely start again now; she's already been gone for a day and a half." Harry said.

"Alright then, let's get going before mum or Ginny comes back and tries to follow us," Ron suggested. They all stood and exited the Great Hall heading for McGonagall's rooms once more. They followed what was fast becoming a habit as they entered the secret room containing the Pensieve.

"Lucky number four," Ron said as he dumped the next vial in. The memories swirled and the three wasted no time in entering Minerva's memories.

Finding themselves standing in a small derelict church, they were suddenly filled with dread. Their fears were confirmed when Minerva and Tom materialized near the altar along with an elderly man wearing the robes of a clergyman. Minerva looked slightly hesitant but otherwise she seemed quite calm considering that she was about to marry the darkest wizard in history. For his part, Tom simply looked smug. The minister began the ceremony and with growing trepidation the trio watched on helplessly.

All too soon it was over and done with, the rings glinting menacingly in the small amount of sunlight filtering in through the boarded windows. Hermione and Ron had identical stunned expressions while Harry looked incredulous. They watched as the groom kissed the bride fervently and then raised his wand to the clergyman.

"What are you doing?" Minerva asked concerned by the action.

"I am only going to erase his memory, no need to worry." Tom assured and wordlessly sent the spell. The poor clergyman stood there blankly before he immediately left the church without saying one word. It was eerie and Minerva was staring at Tom as though she hardly knew him.

She visibly collected herself enough to ask, "Now what?"

"Now we set out for our new home Mrs. Riddle," Tom answered and brought her in for another kiss.

"Which is where?" She asked as she was allowed to breathe once more. Her eyebrows rose in annoyance at his continual refusal to answer directly.

"It's a surprise, trust me you'll like it," he assured taking her hand and apparating once again. A new scene appeared and it was like nothing that the trio had ever seen, nor wanted to.

When Tom had told her that it was their home, it was as far from what one would consider home to be. It was set up more like a military camp, smoke hanging heavily over the numerous black tents sprawled across the expanse of land. Hermione quickly surveyed the area but immediately returned her gaze to watch Minerva's reaction. Harry and Ron were staring openmouthed at the scenery quite ignoring the interaction between Minerva and her new husband.

"So?" Tom asked eagerly. They both looked slightly fatigued as though they had traveled a long distance.

"It's…where…what is this place?" Minerva could not quite contain her puzzlement combined with utter displeasure. Tom's face hardened and he stepped closer to her.

"This is home." He answered. Minerva was about to retort when suddenly there were loud cheers coming from all around them. People began converging on the two giving great shouts of welcome and adoration. Minerva stood still alarmed by the rapid appearance of so many people and the trio instinctively stepped closer together.

"Enough," Tom commanded and the crowd went deathly silent, waiting with pure rapture for his next words. "As promised I have returned."

A woman broke free from the crowd and approached Tom and Minerva haltingly. She was neither ugly nor beautiful; somehow she was in between and many would describe her as striking. Nearing Tom she threw herself down on the ground, dark black hair fanning out around her wildly, practically begging him to let her touch just the hem of his robe. Minerva watched with growing unease as the display of adoration played out.

"If you must," Tom sighed allowing the woman the privilege of touching his clothes. He pretended to be bothered by the request but the gleam in his eye told another story; he fully enjoyed himself as the being the master.

"Now I would like to introduce to you my new bride. Minerva Riddle," he announced with pride. She was starting to look overwhelmed and he quickly dismissed the crowd, allowing them a moment alone.

"You have dragged me along for days so that we may finally land here?" Minerva asked with clenched teeth, the shock wearing off.

"I thought you would be happy," Tom said and his eyes flashed in warning. "It may take some getting used to but you will grow to love it." He then scanned the area and his gaze rested on a monstrous tent which overshadowed all others.

"Please do not tell me that that is where we will be living," Minerva questioned. She closed her eyes, tortured by the thought of living in a tent surrounded by obvious signs of dark magic. The air was thick with the presence of it, aided by the many unscrupulous people wandering around holding various nasty looking items. Harry almost jumped when a large snake slithered past his legs continuing on its journey into the hustle and bustle of the camp.

"It is." Tom answered in clipped tones.

"May I now know _where_ we are?" Minerva asked coldly.

"Albania."

* * *

A/N: I am going on holiday here in a few days and won't be able to write anything for at least two weeks. FYI! The story is not done, by far, just wanted to let you all know! And thank you so much for all the lovely reviews!


	7. Out Of Breathe

OUT OF BREATHE

"Albania," Minerva whispered faintly in response to Tom's admission of their location. She looked as shocked as the trio felt. Hermione's head was spinning with this new information. This was _it_; the very place that Tom Riddle had disappeared off to when reinventing himself.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron asked as he saw how pale her face had become.

"No, not really," she admitted softly.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Don't you realize where we are?" Hermione asked and received blank looks. "This is where Voldemort was during his disappearance."

"So?" Ron commented.

"We are standing in the middle of what could very well be a turning point in our history. Tom Riddle became Lord Voldemort here." Hermione explained. She stopped when she noticed that Minerva and Tom had begun to argue heatedly.

"How could you possibly think I would be happy here?"

"I thought you would be happy wherever I was," Tom grated back and his eyes flashed in anger. "Do not prove me wrong on this Minerva; the consequences will not be pleasant."

"Don't you threaten me," Minerva growled back, reaching for her wand but stopping when Tom took a menacing step forward.

"And don't you even think about leaving." He warned coldly, his softened expression coming as a complete contradiction. "Give it a chance, give me a chance. Please I need you," he pleaded.

Minerva seemed taken aback by the sudden change in him. Her own features relaxed but she still retained her wary expression. Hermione felt like yelling out for her to run; run as far and fast as she could. But she couldn't and she was devastated to watch as Tom once again wormed his way back into her graces as Minerva allowed him to kiss her.

As the two began to walk toward the massive black tent that would serve as Minerva's new home, the scene dissolved. Instead of finding themselves in a new scene, Harry, Hermione and Ron experienced flashes of different and disturbing scenes which involved an increasingly troubled Minerva. Tom had grown into his role as Lord Voldemort with ease while Minerva helplessly watched her husband spiral further down. Eventually she attempted numerous times to leave but was stopped by Tom each time. And each time he would become that much more possessive of her; realizing that she no longer felt for him as she once had.

Finally the rush of memories stopped and the trio found themselves standing in a large room, darkened by heavy black canvas which made up the four walls. There was a makeshift fireplace taking up one corner, large and small plush pillows filling half the room acting as furniture. The canvas fluttered violently but held against the howling wind, creating an eerie atmosphere that was further heightened by the sound of quiet crying.

Harry noticed her first and pointed the other two to where Minerva was huddled in the farthest corner away from the blazing fire. They stepped closer and were shocked at the changes in her. Physically she was almost the same as when she first arrived at the camp, the only difference was her now shoulder length hair. It was the aura around her which troubled the trio; she was positively radiating despair, if her sobs weren't enough to convince them of her pain. They whirled around when a cold voice broke above the wind. Minerva looked up sharply and futilely wiped the tears from her face as Tom walked closer.

"Minerva, my love, what troubles you?" He asked and received no response. Rather, Minerva stood and faced him with no small amount of resolution.

"I'm pregnant," she revealed and her voice wavered slightly. Hermione reached out and clutched onto Ron's arm while he threw a comforting arm around her. Harry's mouth was open wide in true shock at the revelation that Professor McGonagall may very well have given birth to the spawn of Lord Voldemort.

Tom's face lit up with unabashed joy and he raced over to embrace Minerva who remained quite still. He lavished kisses on her face, neck and shoulders displaying his genuine delight at the prospect of her carrying his child.

"You've made me so happy," he said between kisses.

Minerva did not move but she did respond quite scathingly, "I am so very sorry that you've not returned the favor."

Tom stopped his ministrations and slowly leaned away from her, the look in his eyes unreadable in the dim light. However it was not hard for the trio to discern what it might be; they themselves had been shocked at her blatantly disrespectful comment.

"I have tried Minerva, I have tried. You seem to forget your place," Tom began but was interrupted.

"You mean under you?"

The resounding crack from his palm hitting her cheek jolted the trio and their eyes widened in alarm. Minerva stumbled and was caught around the waist by Tom's arms. He kissed her brutally and then pushed her away.

"Perhaps a little more time alone will bring you back to your senses." He snarled and brought his wand out. Minerva visibly shrank but there was a determination lighting her eyes that served as testimony to her strength.

"I will miss you," Tom whispered and a moment later Minerva had disappeared.

The trio landed on their feet back in the secret room, completely dumbstruck. Hermione's hand clamped over her mouth and the boys barely heard her muffled, "I think I'm going to be sick," before she ran from the room.

"Not a bad idea," Ron said quietly. Harry nodded, for there really was nothing else to be done.

They followed Hermione's steps and found her retching in McGonagall's bathroom. They waited in the living room, standing silently when she finally emerged. Her face was pale and she looked really shaken.

"Feeling better?" Harry asked gently.

Hermione nodded jaggedly and Ron stepped closer and hugged her. Harry watched on, completely uncomfortable with what he had to say.

"Look I know that what we've just seen is pretty heavy but I doubt that barely scratches the surface. There's clearly more to the story and we have to find out what happened."

Ron looked at him sharply and Hermione shook her head.

"No," she cried into Ron's chest.

"Honestly Harry, can't we at least get a break?" Ron asked.

"No, I'm sorry but too much time has already passed. You saw the state McGonagall was in back there, who knows what else happened that we haven't seen yet."

"Exactly," Hermione said and brought her tear stained face to stare straight at Harry. "I don't know if you understand just how much I look up to Professor McGonagall and seeing her like that is too much. I don't know how much more I can take," she added quietly.

Harry really hated what he had to say now.

"And I don't think you understand how important every minute is."

"Voldemort is already dead, how much worse can the person who took McGonagall be?" Ron asked.

"Who knows? You saw the people at that camp," Harry said darkly.

Surprisingly Hermione was the one who spoke up. "You're right. I'm sorry it's just that this is so hard for me. But we have to, for Professor McGonagall."

"If you're sure," Ron said and looked at her closely.

"I'm sure," she said firmly and pulled herself together.

"So we're agreed then, back to the room." Harry stated and the two resolutely nodded, slowly making their way back to the Pensieve.

They were taken once more to McGonagall's bathroom where she stood in front of the mirror. She gazed into her reflection and began speaking.

"I have shown you these memories to impress upon you, whoever you are, the deep and dark feelings that Tom had towards me. I have never once forgiven myself for marrying him or continuing to believe that I could change him. The only change that ever happened was the alarming rate at which he gained power and influence, along with a nasty set of new habits that never ceased to disturb me. I knew little of what was going on in the world; whatever I did learn was twisted by his perception. He kept me by his side, became obsessed with it in fact; especially after my many attempts to leave him."

"More like escape," Harry muttered and Ron nodded, Hermione intensely watching her professor's face.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I even agreed to marry him," Minerva continued and her gaze became clouded. "The simple answer is that I was desperate. Desperate to be with him at all costs, even if that included leaving everyone who truly cared for me behind. The moment I said yes when marrying him I knew it was a mistake. The desperation I had felt was replaced with doubt and that soon grew to contempt for the life which he forced me into.

"The next memory I have put in here will show how my feelings came full circle. I was once more desperate, but this time I was desperate to get away from him. I knew that with a child on the way it was imperative that I get the baby as far from its father as I could. Tom kept me in isolation, some form of ancient magic used to keep people suspended in another reality so to speak. The only way to know of time passing was watching as my stomach grew larger and even that terrified me. I knew that in order to escape once and for all I would have to be very convincing when he came to collect me. Please understand that what I did was necessary for not only my survival but my child's as well."

All three of their faces were watching in deep concentration as the myriad of emotions crossed Professor McGonagall's face before the scene changed. They were back in the tent with Minerva standing in the exact place before Tom had banished her. Tom was pacing before her and it was clear that he was anxious. The only difference between the previous memory and this one was Minerva's obvious pregnancy. Months had passed and she was looking quite desolate.

"Have you learned anything?" Tom asked. His pleading tone betrayed the hard set features on his face. He turned to face her, his hands looking as though he longed to reach out and touch her.

"Yes," Minerva answered slowly. "I have learned one very important thing. I do not in anyway support or condone what you do. However I realize that we are about to bring a child into this world," she ran her hand along her protruding stomach lovingly, "and we have to try to get along for his or her sake."

"Too right you are," Tom agreed and he finally stepped forward to embrace her. She returned it hesitantly and when he started to kiss along the side of her throat she shuddered. He took it for pleasure and began to slowly lower her robes over her shoulders. As the scene began to fade, the trio caught the haunted look in Minerva's eyes as Tom once more took control of her.

Between memories, Ron turned to give Hermione an encouraging hug whispering that it was alright, they were in this together. She gave a jerky nod and turned her attention to the new scene settling around them. It was night and they were outside the massive tent that served as Lord Voldemort's dwelling, the smoke still hanging heavy in the air. Although they could not smell it the trio could definitely sense that it was not pleasant; the air of dark magic permeating everything around them.

Minerva was standing just at the entrance of the tent, clutching the canvas with white hands. Her pregnancy had noticeably advanced, the time of delivery perhaps days away. Given the environment surrounding her it was understandable that she had a look of desperation in her eyes. She gave a quick survey of the people walking past, many of whom simply leering back at her, and she disappeared into the tent. The trio followed quickly and only just made it in time to catch Minerva changing into her animagus form.

Hermione gasped, "What is she doing?"

"Trying to escape," Harry responded.

"It's entirely too dangerous for a witch to transform while pregnant, especially as far along as she is." Hermione bit her lip in worry and watched as Minerva, in cat form, sat still for several seconds. She was no doubt getting accustomed to her new form before she attempted escape for perhaps the final time.

"Bloody hell this is getting weird," Ron blurted out suddenly.

"I think we've long since passed weird," Harry commented, his gaze intently watching Minerva as she began to walk carefully in small circles and finally decided it was time. She slipped through the tent opening and the three of them followed closely as she stealthily crept around the camp avoiding anybody who came near. Miraculously she managed to make it all the way to the edge of camp before anyone noticed she was missing.

Loud shouts and a great amount of uproar ensued and Minerva, still in cat form, began running full tilt for the forest which bordered the camp. Gaining the tree line she immediately changed back to her human form and took a precious moment to gain her breathe, leaning against a gnarled old tree. The shouts of the crowd were growing closer and her face panicked for a split second before she pulled herself up with determination.

Wrapping her arms as far as she could around her stomach she whispered, "I'm so sorry," and turned on the spot.

"Whoa!" Harry exclaimed as they landed hard in the next memory. Minerva landed just as hard as they did and stumbled a few steps before she fell to her knees. She was clearly exhausted and her face was contorted in pain.

Hermione had a heart wrenching desire to throw her arms around her professor's shoulders and comfort her but was powerless to do anything. Rationally she knew that it was only a memory but emotionally it was devastating to see her role model so broken and hurt. Ron poked her and pointed to a man walking up to Minerva, gently placing his hand on the small of her back. Minerva looked up wearily but did nothing to stop him from helping her to stand.

He spoke in a language that neither of the three knew and even Minerva had no idea what he was saying.

"I'm sorry, don't understand," Minerva managed feebly. She was leaning heavily on the man taking solace in his strength. He was an elderly man with a kind face topped with a shock of white hair. He spoke again and gestured to a house lit up in the night. Finally taking stock of the area the trio found they were standing on a long dirt road. It was completely devoid of all but one house nestled quite a distance from where they were standing. The full moon lent its light, allowing them a clear view as they followed the elderly man leading Minerva to the house. She had at first refused his help but after stumbling several times she thankfully leaned on him.

Reaching the front door the man knocked sharply and they could hear footsteps approaching. The old wooden door swung open to reveal a young woman with long black hair. She had the same soft open features as the elderly man holding Minerva and the trio knew that this must be his daughter or even granddaughter. She gave a startled look but ushered them in, taking hold of Minerva so the older man could shut the door. They spoke in hushed whispers, the man looking like he was explaining what had happened. The woman's face scrunched in confusion but when they landed on the severely exhausted Minerva she bore a determined look.

"Talk about hospitality," Ron said and walked behind the other two as they traveled further into the house.

Minerva was taken to a small living room, albeit very cozy. There was a warm fire blazing in the fireplace sending much needed warmth onto the occupants. Minerva sat down wearily on the sofa and took a moment to calm her breathing, one hand massaging her temple and the other splayed protectively over her large stomach. The younger woman who had helped her to sit noticed this and her eyes widened in sympathy. Gently she sat next to Minerva and just as gently wiped the dark matted hair from her forehead. Minerva flinched slightly and then relaxed into the soothing touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

The woman began to speak in soft hushed tones but it was no less decipherable then the old man's. Minerva gave her a pleading look and shrugged her shoulders. The moment was broken as a small child rushed into the room letting loose a stream of words that must have been questions. It was a little girl, no more than four years old with bouncing golden curls and the biggest blue eyes. Behind her trailed a small boy barely a year older than the girl and he too had big blue eyes that sparkled with curiosity at the sight of such a pretty lady sitting in his living room.

"I am so sorry, I can't understand you," Minerva explained hopelessly. The young woman must have understood because she started to make motions with her hands to try and convey her message.

"How awful," Hermione whispered. "I mean, can you imagine going through all that and then not being able to talk to the people who rescued you? Not being able to explain anything?"

"I don't know, it seems like they're working it out," Harry pointed out. He was right; the young woman had successfully indicated that Minerva was more than welcome to join them for dinner. She looked hesitant but after some rather enthusiastic urging from the little girl she gave in. She was helped once more out of the room and down the hall to where the kitchen was. Inside the small room was the rest of the family. The young woman walked over to an equally young man who embraced her tightly and then turned to utter sharp words at the two young children who were jumping up and down in excitement. They quieted instantly but their eyes still shone in jubilance at having a guest.

"Must be the dad and that one," Harry said pointing out to the young woman who had sat with Minerva, "must be the mother. The old man must be her dad."

"And she must be the grandmother," Hermione said after an elderly woman walked into the room. She immediately started to fuss over Minerva, who for her part looked uncomfortable with the attention. She was led to a chair and a steaming bowl of stew was placed in front of her with the gentle urge to eat.

The whole family was silently staring at her and she blushed slightly. It wasn't everyday that a pregnant woman adorned in flowing black robes showed up out of the blue. Despite the stares, Minerva started to eat and managed to clean the bowl. When she had finished her eyes landed on a newspaper lying on the table and she grabbed for it, eyes widening in shock.

"1955?" Minerva said in a daze.

"She was kept in that camp for three years?" Harry asked incredulously as he did the math in his head.

"Merlin that's got to be hard to take in," Ron muttered. Hermione nodded sadly in agreement and took a closer look around the house coming to a startling realization.

"They're muggles," she told the other two. They looked at her curiously and she responded, "There are absolutely no traces of magic here."

"Oh right, hadn't noticed," Ron said.

"They must be wondering where she came from." Harry pondered out loud.

"I would," Hermione chimed in.

Minerva was trying to communicate as best she could but her exhaustion combined with the language barrier made it near impossible. Her eyelids were fluttering heavily and her movements were slow. The elderly woman made clucking noises before she pushed the younger man toward Minerva, speaking rapidly in their native language. He took the hint and gently put his arm around Minerva's back and the other behind her knees, picking her up. She sat cradled in his arms, almost asleep as she was.

The trio followed as the man carried her up the stairs and to a small room. His wife followed behind, carrying a large hand quilted blanket which she laid on the bed. Pulling back the blanket which already rested on the small bed, she helped her husband lay Minerva down where she immediately snuggled deeper into the comfort provided by the soft bedding.

The scene dissolved and they found themselves once more in the downstairs living room, this time sun streaming in warmly through the windows. Minerva sat huddled under a blanket on the sofa watching the little girl who was excitedly chattering away while doodling. She was stretched out on the floor; face scrunched in concentration yet still able to keep up a steady stream of conversation, albeit one sided. The little boy was also in the room but he was quietly attempting to appear reading a book while sending shy looks toward Minerva every few moments. Minerva herself looked rested and almost happy as she smiled softly at the children's antics.

The elderly woman bustled into the room carrying an arm full of laundry. She gestured for Minerva to follow her with a stern nod of her head. The little girl dissolved into a fit of giggles at the pretend scared expression that Minerva sent to her. Slowly Minerva stood and stretched her back, her stomach causing the new clothes the family had given her to tighten. For the first time since the beginning of watching the memories, the trio saw a glimmer of the old Minerva shining through.

She was led to the one small bathroom where she was then instructed to sit down near the tub. With a curious look she followed the order and sat gingerly down on the stool provided. Smiling approvingly the elderly woman walked from the bathroom and was replaced by her daughter who had a bucket in her hand. Minerva opened her mouth in an attempt to ask for an explanation but the woman just smiled. Calmly she helped Minerva to lean her head back over the tub and then proceeded to pour the water over her hair. Minerva realized what was happening, her face changing expressions rapidly. First she was embarrassed at the ministrations of such a personal act but soon relaxed.

The woman began humming and before long she was finished. She dried Minerva's hair as best she could with a towel and helped her to stand, holding a comb up. Minerva took it and walked back to the living room sitting down in her previously vacated spot. The little girl had watched her walk in and practically pounced on her, speaking fast in excitement. Minerva laughed softly and gave her the comb.

"Wonder why she put these in here?" Harry asked.

"Maybe she gave the baby to this family, you know so Voldemort wouldn't be able to find it." Ron answered and Hermione gave him an approving look.

"That's very possible. She most definitely did not want Voldemort to raise the child." Hermione added. "And seeing as they're muggles who better to take the baby?"

They turned back to find that the girl had climbed up onto the sofa next to Minerva and began to carefully run the comb through Minerva's now long black hair. Hermione felt tears beginning to prickle at the tender scene, easily imagining how it must have affected her professor. Minerva's eyes were closed in contentment as the girl finished and climbed back down to give her work an approving nod. Before Minerva could so much as offer a thank you her face contorted in pain and a sharp moan left her lips. The little girl's face went pale and she raced from the room yelling for what must have been help.

Suddenly the scene changed and it was later that evening, the sun just setting over the small cottage. Harry and Ron found themselves quite uncomfortable with the new scene whereas Hermione walked closer on instinct. Minerva was in the grips of a very painful delivery, her mouth set in a thin line, a fine layer of sweat coating her face. Her knuckles were white as she clutched onto the bed sheets. The elderly woman was crouching near the end of the bed while her daughter was wiping Minerva's face with a damp cloth. She was speaking and if even if they could not understand the words, they knew it must be words of encouragement.

Suddenly a great crack of thunder boomed followed immediately by a streak of lightning. Rain began pelting the windows as the night sky darkened considerably with the promise of a vicious storm.

"Perfect," Minerva managed to comment as she fell back onto the pillows. Her eyes closed as the contractions subsided for the moment and she was able to breathe deeply. The sound of the front door slamming open followed by loud shouts caused her eyes to open once more in panic.

"Dear God, no," she pleaded and the two women looked around in confusion and then shock as a truly horrific scream was heard from the downstairs. The elderly woman motioned for the younger to go see what was happening and Minerva grabbed onto her arm with a vice like grip, beseeching her to stay.

"How very touching," a cold voice drawled from the open doorway.

"No," Minerva breathed.


	8. You Can Kiss Us Goodbye

YOU CAN KISS US GOODBYE

Tom stood in the doorway casually leaning against the doorframe. He was twiddling his wand calmly but his entire demeanor screamed of his anger. The trio watched with bated breath as he slowly pushed away and sauntered into the room, hardly giving the two other women any notice; his eyes only for Minerva.

Minerva was biting her lip to keep from screaming out. Her contractions must have started once again, this time with vengeance. Her knuckles were white from clutching the sheets, twisting them so hard that Hermione thought she might actually tear through the material. The contractions were coming more frequently and it wouldn't be long before the baby arrived.

"Please Tom, don't do this." Minerva begged, her voice raw from pain and the fear that her husband had brought into the room. It felt as though his presence had doused the whole room in icy cold water. He took in her words and tilted his head to the side slightly, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Do what my dear?" His tone was sickly sweet and though they weren't exactly part of the memory, the trio couldn't help but feel the weight of this moment.

"Don't hurt them; they were only trying to help me."

"Now why would you think I'd hurt them?" He asked and it was clear he enjoyed answering her with even more questions. She was saved from answering as another contraction hit and she grunted in pain. Tom looked on with a flash of concern which was gone as soon as it appeared making the trio doubt they had seen it at all. Then he suddenly remembered that there were two other people in the room and swung his gaze to find them as they stood watching him in horror of what he would do. He curled his lips into an evil grimace and advanced toward them.

"No," Minerva groaned through clenched teeth, face white in fear and pain. "Tom please don't hurt them."

"I don't know why you're so concerned for them. They are only Muggles and yet you defend them." He shot back never once taking his gaze from the two women. "Besides we'll only need one to help with the delivery."

Minerva let out a scream as the worst of the contractions hit along with the realization that Tom no doubt had every intention of murdering the entire family.

"He's going to kill them all," Hermione managed and fought back tears. Harry's mouth thinned in disgust and Ron once again threw his arm around Hermione's shoulders. They all jumped when the bright green flash of the killing curse engulfed the younger woman and she landed dully on the floor. The older woman screamed and was soon silenced by Tom who obviously had no patience for her suffering. All was silent except for the storm raging outside. The rain still pounded against the window, lightning lighting up the sky and thunder shaking the little house. Roughly he shoved the woman toward the bed where she stumbled but caught herself. Her vision was blurred by the tears pouring down her face, hands shaking as she once more took up the position near the end of the bed.

Minerva was openly screaming now, a mixture of physical pain and emotional anguish over what was happening. The older woman tried to offer soothing words despite her own misery but it was useless in the face of what Minerva was facing. Her baby would be born right into the hands of the monster she had desperately tried to escape. The family that had so selflessly and lovingly accepted her into their home was murdered. And worst of all was the cold smile that lit up Tom's face as he watched his child being born.

Suddenly the tiny room was filled with the cries of a newborn baby as Minerva gave one more great push. The older woman caught the child but no sooner had she grabbed hold was it taken by Tom. His face was a myriad of emotions that the trio was rather uncomfortable in witnessing. It was disconcerting to see the Dark Lord with such a tender expression mixed with a strange gleam that was indecipherable. He impatiently gestured the woman to finish the after birth and he once more turned to look down on his child. Conjuring a blanket he wrapped the baby snugly and then turned to face Minerva. Her face was white with terror and exhaustion.

"It would have been better had you just stayed Minerva." He explained softly. "This could have all been avoided." With that said he sent the killing curse once more and the older woman fell to the floor, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. Minerva gave a strangled sob and her eyes held complete and utter loathing when she next looked into Tom's face.

"You bastard," she said with venom and Tom's eyes widened in fury at her insult.

"Did you honestly think that you could get away from me; that you could ever possibly keep me from my child?" He spat and his voice shook with such raw fury that Minerva couldn't help but flinch.

"I had to try," she shot back. "I'll be damned if I go back with you without a fight."

"No more Minerva. No more will you ever be allowed the freedom you so desperately and foolhardily crave. It is useless to deny it any longer; you are mine. The sooner you accept that the sooner we can be a family."

"Never," she ground out.

"That, my dear, is a long time." He answered darkly and stepped forward and made to grab her arm.

"Get away from her."

The trio swung around and found Mad-Eye Moody standing in the door, wand raised and ready to fight. Looking between the two, the trio could not decide who looked more murderous: Mad-Eye or Voldemort.

"Ah, so the prodigal best friend shows up to rescue the damsel." Tom sneered and his wand was raised as well and pointed toward Minerva. "Don't do anything foolish Alastor."

It was a standstill for several long agonizing moments wherein the trio watched Alastor waging a battle within. Let Tom take Minerva and the child or risk Minerva getting hurt in order to stop him.

"This ends here Tom," Alastor announced as his wand slashed the air and red light shot toward Tom who swiftly blocked it, sending his own curse back. The air was soon filled with curses as they flew between the two wizards. Alastor's face covered in a fine layer of sweat while Tom's gleamed in the lights provided by the sinister and dark curses he flung so nonchalantly at his opponent. It was clear that Alastor was no match for the Dark Lord but he was obviously not going down without a fight.

Minerva watched the scene unfold with wide eyes. Not only was she concerned for Alastor but she must have been worried for the baby still in Tom's arms. Its cries were long since ignored as the men concentrated on dueling. She very slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand. She wobbled unsteadily for a moment before she grabbed the mattress in order to catch herself. Suddenly a loud cry tore the trio's gaze from their professor's struggles to where Alastor stood with his hand covering his eye. There was blood oozing between his fingers leaving a crimson path as it flowed down his face.

Tom laughed cruelly and stepped closer, no doubt to end the fight and Alastor's life. The baby was still crying and Tom halted and looked down at the crying infant with distaste. The trio knew that he hated crying, it reminded him too strongly of the orphanage where he had grown up. In the split second it took for Tom to look down at his child Alastor seized the one opportunity he had to reach Minerva. It all happened so quickly: Alastor racing to grab Minerva's arm while Tom's curse flew toward them menacingly. The last thing the trio heard was Minerva's wail of despair and Tom's roar of fury before they were pulled from the spot.

"Take me back! You have to take me back!" Minerva pleaded with Alastor when they had landed safely. She stepped away from him and began to turn on the spot, fully intent on apparating back to where Tom held her baby. Alastor grabbed her and shook her slightly and it was apparent that he was mortified she would go back willingly.

"Are you insane?" Alastor growled as he tried to staunch the flow of blood from his eye while also keeping a firm hand on Minerva.

"No I'm desperate," Minerva breathed softly as she sunk to her knees, grabbing onto the front of Alastor's robes. Her voice was tired and raw from her earlier screams along with a new agony. "My baby…I don't even know if it was a boy or a girl."

Alastor looked down at her with his hand covering his eye. There was deep affection in his gaze but he quickly lost it.

"Minerva I can't begin to imagine what you've been through or what you're feeling but we have to get you somewhere safe."

She looked up at him watery eyes and her expression hardened.

"So that's it, that's all we're going to say about it," Minerva replied scathingly. Hermione was shocked at the cruel tone in her voice, completely surprised by her change in attitude. Looking at Alastor, Hermione was reminded that he wasn't known for being cuddly; his face looked set in stone.

"I don't know what you want from me."

Minerva looked down in shame and hung her head. "I am so sorry Alastor. Please forgive me; I fear I've spent too much time with _him_."

"Of course," he sighed. "I want nothing more than to see you safe and that's why we have to move now before he finds us."

The scene began to dissolve and the trio once more found themselves in the dark circular room, this time with more questions and apprehension than ever before. They looked between one another unable to form words for what they were feeling. It was as though a veil had finally been lifted from their eyes and they saw their professor as the human being she was and not the figurehead they had always seen her as.

"Bloody hell," Ron finally managed.

"To put it succinctly," Hermione said.

"Let's be honest, this may be above our heads." Harry pointed out and received sharp glares. "Look I want to find out where Min—Professor McGonagall," he corrected himself quickly; "I want to find out where she is as much as anyone. But this is getting really complicated and personal."

"Who else is there?" Ron asked and there was silence as his words sank in. There really was no one else who was more entitled to these memories. Sure there were the Order members who were left but somehow the three of them doubted that anyone apart from Minerva, Alastor and Dumbledore knew the whole truth. The only other person was Tom Riddle but he was dead which left the three of them.

"Bloody hell," Hermione reiterated softly. "What have we stumbled on?"

"More trouble," Harry answered. His stomach started to growl and he checked his watch. "It's late and we haven't eaten anything since lunch. Let's go grab something to eat and try and rest. My intuition's telling me that we're going to need it."

The other two nodded in agreement and they left the room, all of them mulling over all the memories they had witnessed. Each spent the night tossing and turning, trying to get the images out of their heads. Tom's face livid with fury, Alastor's determined face covered in rivulets of dark crimson blood, but most haunting of all was Minerva looking so broken and lost.

Meeting the next morning they were all still reeling from the immense amount of information. Walking past the numerous people working in and around the castle they received strange looks, no doubt attesting to their lack of sleep and obvious shock. Even the Weasley clan knew that to ask them any questions would result in the same answers the trio had given before. However it did not deter Mrs. Weasley from asking after their wellbeing.

"Mum, really we're fine." Ron tried his best to sound convincing but his mother obviously saw right through his attempt.

"I know that you three have been holed up somewhere looking for Professor McGonagall, but that shouldn't mean letting yourselves fall apart." Mrs. Weasley implored softly as she brushed some of Ron's hair out of his face. He did nothing to stop her and that only made her worry more.

"Mrs. Weasley please, we're so close to figuring it out. When we know something we'll let you all know." Hermione tried her best to sound perfectly confident but it came out as perfectly botched as Ron's. She received the same doubtful look from Mrs. Weasley gave Ron but before she could utter her disapproval Harry intervened.

"We're not trying to lie; we're just trying to get to the bottom of it. It's been difficult but really we're doing well considering. Please just let us work this out; we're going to need all the support we can get."

Mrs. Weasley gazed at him for a moment before she sighed. Resting her hand softly on his shoulder she let them know that they were indeed in full support of what the three of them were doing.

"But the moment it becomes too much you let us know alright?" The matriarch's voice came out more as a demand rather than a question and the trio took it as such.

"For sure," Harry promised.

After Mrs. Weasley had left the three looked at one another and in that look was determination. If all else they had to at least determine where McGonagall could possibly be and after that they would let the others know where she was. But the memories and what was learned from them would remain a secret they would never tell.

"So now what?" Ron asked after he had watched his mother walk away.

"We finish this," Hermione said with finality.

They made their way to Professor McGonagall's chambers and proceeded to enter the secret room. Before they poured the next memory in it seemed as though all three took one deep breath preparing for what might come next. Touching the shimmering liquid they were transported directly to the Headmaster's office where a younger Dumbledore sat behind his desk. Minerva was sitting across from him and it was obvious that she had had some time to recover from the horrendous experiences she had gone through. Her eyes no longer had the thoroughly haunted look in them; however there were still faint traces of her despair lingering in the emerald depths.

"I am so sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen." Minerva explained and her gaze held Dumbledore's with steady resolve.

"You have nothing to apologize for. For Merlin's sake Minerva! He charmed us all and don't ever forget that."

"You weren't fooled," she returned softly and Dumbledore's eyes closed briefly.

"That may be true, however I had an advantage. I knew him from his days at the orphanage; I saw firsthand what kind of man he might turn out to be. I may be the only wizard alive to say that." He was looking directly at her now and she gazed back, something in her eyes changing.

"I never got a chance to ask how Alastor is doing."

Dumbledore relaxed slightly at the change of topic. "He is doing well, although the spell cast by Tom has damaged his eye permanently. In fact from what I have heard from the healers at St. Mungo's it had to be removed before the curse could spread any further."

Minerva gasped, "That's awful."

"Not quite," Dumbledore responded and there was a smile playing on his lips. "It seems that Mr. Moody has taken to his predicament with gleeful pride. There is a new spell which will enable his new eye to swivel around completely, giving him the advantage of seeing through the back of his head and other various things."

Minerva snorted, "Constant vigilance no doubt."

Dumbledore leaned forward and steepled his fingers and gave Minerva a piercing stare. "I have to admit that I was slightly surprised when your application arrived."

"I know it may seem unorthodox and perhaps a little abrupt, but what has happened cannot be undone." Minerva paused in her explanation and decided that being professional was not going to get her anywhere with Dumbledore. "I realize this and have decided that life must go on; I must try to move on."

"I cannot agree more," Dumbledore exclaimed and the twinkle returned to his eyes. "Nor can I say that there has been a better qualified candidate for the position. But what I am unsure of is the delicate emotional state you must be in after what you have only just been through. I only bring this up out of concern for your wellbeing," he hastened to add when it was clear she might have mistaken his meaning.

Minerva relaxed and there was an actual smile fighting its way onto her lips. "If spoken by any other person I would take offense. But I know where your heart is and that is what is going to help get me through this. And believe me when I say I will get through this." She had become serious and Dumbledore shifted once more to rest against the chair.

"Do you really think it will be that easy?"

"I know it will not be easy. I will never forget, nor will I ever forgive. So I will try to move on, go forward and do whatever is necessary to ensure what happened to me never happens to anyone else."

"I do not believe he would even be interested in anyone other than you." Dumbledore pointed out with a pained expression; his voice relaying his distress at the thought. There was a long pause in which Minerva twisted her hands in her lap, face pale but eyes shining in determination.

"I know and that's what frightens me."


	9. Break My Fall

BREAK MY FALL

The scene dissolved and the trio instantly recognized Professor McGonagall's private chambers appearing before them. There were obvious differences between this time period and the one they lived in. There were not so many personal touches which suggested that she had not been living and teaching at the castle for long. However there was still the same meticulous upkeep that she was so well known for. Her rooms reflected that seeing as how there was nothing out of place, no room for disorder. Had she always been this way or was this a result of her finally being able to take control of her surroundings? Hermione was intensely curious but kept her thoughts cleared as she watched her professor pace nervously.

Minerva's face once more bore that same hurt and desolate expression as when she lived with Tom in Albania. It was heartbreaking for all three not being able to console her or convey how very sorry they were that she had to go through what she did. So they watched on as she continually checked first her watch and then the fireplace. It was as though she were waiting for someone or something to happen. Just when they feared that she might start ripping her hair out the fireplace blazed to life and Professor Dumbledore's face appeared.

"Minerva it is safe. He is gone," he explained quietly. "Please join me in my office, we need to discuss this."

"Y-yes," Minerva stammered in relief and Dumbledore disappeared.

Next thing the trio knew they were standing in Dumbledore's office where a weeping Minerva stood cradled in the Headmaster's arms. He was whispering soothing words to her while stroking her back gently. His face wore such a tender expression that it was difficult not to see how much Minerva meant to him. Professionalism was completely forgotten as he tipped her tear stained face to gaze up at him and very slowly lowered his head down to hers, kissing her softly. Minerva responded timidly and his expression showed his relief and absolute delight that she so willingly returned his feelings. The kiss ended and Minerva's eyes closed as she leaned her head on his chest, fresh tears leaking from her eyes.

"Minerva what is it?" Albus asked with deep concern. "Please do not be upset, if my actions have caused you pain I am truly sorry."

"No," Minerva said and clung to him tighter. "The only thing that has caused me any pain is the realization that I have not only wasted so much time but, that I have wasted it with the wrong man. You were in front of me the whole time yet I ignored you. How can you even bear to look at me?"

"Because you are the most extraordinary woman I have ever known." Dumbledore responded and she began to cry again. "I am not lying Minerva. I can't believe I let you go so easily. If you hadn't sent that patronus when you did I would have worried myself into an early grave not knowing where you were."

Minerva gave a great shudder and then looked up at him, eyes still brimming with tears. "That night he showed up after such a long absence I lost all sense. He was there and I felt so torn between relief and hate. He was always able to manipulate me into doing whatever he wanted and I almost left with absolutely no word. But something stopped me and told me to send someone a message. I had no idea where he was taking me but I had to let someone know; I had to let _you_ know."

Dumbledore stood staring down at her with such intensity that the trio felt that nagging feeling that they were witnessing something that maybe they shouldn't be seeing; however their feelings were not as important as getting as much information they could from Professor McGonagall's memories. This must be important if she put it in with the rest of the memories.

"Ultimately it may have been your saving grace; it was perhaps the key to finding you. Alastor spent much of the time you were gone searching and exploring every avenue that might enable us to find you."

Minerva's eyes welled with tears yet again and she sighed as she wrapped her arms around Dumbledore's slim waist. Laying her head down on his chest she inhaled deeply and shut her eyes.

"Why?" She asked and her voice was muffled against his robes. "Why have you so unfailingly believed in me?"

"Your strength my dear," Dumbledore responded easily. "Through everything I have never doubted you because of the strength you possess and continually show."

"I didn't show much strength today," Minerva pointed out and stepped away from his arms. She began to pace once more wringing her hands anxiously.

"You are only human; what he put you through is nothing short of traumatic."

"What did he want?" She asked and the trio noted the hard set of her jaw and the steel in her voice.

"He wanted nothing more than a position on staff."

Minerva growled and her eyes fairly sparked. "It's ludicrous how high he holds himself. As though you, Albus Dumbledore, would ever let him teach. Not to mention the fact that you would obviously know what he did to me."

"I do not believe he thinks I know everything. He was surprised to learn that I knew so many of his darker secrets." Dumbledore said.

"Of course that means he knows exactly where that information came from. Of all things that I have taken from my experiences with him I take some comfort in the fact that I can offer the information I had gathered." Minerva said bitterly.

"Something for which the Order will be forever grateful," Dumbledore smiled warmly at her. Her gaze became clouded for a moment and Harry thought she must be lost in memories. Her hands began to shake and she visibly pulled herself back to the present and faced Dumbledore, trying gallantly to smile.

"I believe that is enough talk for one night." Dumbledore said.

"Yes," Minerva agreed. "I think a good night's rest is in order."

"Minerva?" Dumbledore asked as she turned to walk from the room.

"Yes?"

He paused, "If there is anything you need, don't hesitate. My door is always open to you," he finished softly.

"I know Albus, I know."

The trio looked between one another and there was a unanimous feeling of shock.

"Blimey, what else don't we know?" Ron blurted out as the scene changed and they were standing just outside the door to Minerva's chambers.

"Apparently there is a lot we have yet to learn," Hermione pointed out and strained her neck to see past Ron's tall figure to where Minerva was entering her rooms. Harry was the first to follow the young professor as she stepped into the room, casually flicking her wand to light the many candles sitting around the room.

"Well whatever we do learn will probably just get weirder," Ron mumbled as he too watched Minerva walk around the room as she got ready for bed. A kettle was sitting on the table by the fireplace and she poured a cup of tea and sat down in one of the two plush chairs, watching the fire dance in the grate.

"So far we've seen her connected not only to the Department of Mysteries but to Voldemort. Now Dumbledore," Harry recited.

"Let's not forget Mad-Eye," Hermione pointed out. "How terrible it must have been to learn he had been murdered."

"Yeah by Voldemort," Ron interjected and Hermione's eyes widened.

"I'd almost forgotten. Voldemort must have gotten a lot of satisfaction out of that," she muttered darkly and turned back to find Minerva standing.

Extinguishing the candles and lighting the tip of her wand, Minerva made her way to her bedroom and the trio followed. Just as before she lit the candle near the bed and proceeded to strip off her outer robes. Ron made a small whistling noise which was quelled by a sharp glare from Hermione. Harry turned away to give her some privacy and when he turned back around Minerva was dressed in her nightgown. Though the gown was simple yet elegant, it was not hard to see that Minerva had kept her figure. Her hair had been let down and she took several seconds running a comb through it. Walking over to the bed she threw back the covers and gasped.

Hermione stepped closer and also gave a startled gasp. The two boys followed and found a picture lying on the pillow. It was a small child, no more than two years old. Minerva reached a shaking hand to gently pick it up and gaze longingly down at the image of her baby with its head of thick, black hair and startling green eyes.

"I have a son," she whispered and tears welled in her eyes. She traced the image reverently, memorizing every little detail. The baby was giggling and trying to catch a small orb that was floating just out of his reach. Minerva gave a strangled sob and clutched the photo to her chest and hung her head breathing deeply.

"Now we know it's a boy," Harry said to which he received nods of agreement. Suddenly Minerva's head jerked up and she swept the room with a sharp glance.

Then the scene changed and they were in the den and watched as Dumbledore embraced a very distraught Minerva. Her words were coming out rapidly and it was all they could do to keep up.

"He was here, I know it was him. How did he manage to get in? Is he still here? What did he name him? Where is he now and he is being taken care of? We have to check the wards protecting the school, who knows where he could be."

"Minerva please calm down. Tom is definitely gone and I have no idea how he managed to get into your rooms." Dumbledore spoke reassuringly. "And as to your son, I have no answers."

"Dear God, he was in here," Minerva shuddered and clung tighter to Dumbledore. "How am I ever going to feel safe again?"

"As long as I am able I will not let him harm you."

Minerva looked up at him and stepped away. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to imply that you were unable to…that is to say…the only time I _do_ feel safe is when I'm with you."

"Rest assured from now on he will not be allowed near the castle or the grounds. I will make sure of it. Being Headmaster has its benefits."

"Thank you," she breathed. "You can't imagine what a relief that is."

Dumbledore gave her a sharp look, "Are you still having nightmares?"

"Every night," she answered and gingerly perched on the edge of one of the chairs before the fireplace. "Although they are fading somewhat," she hastened to add as his eyes darkened.

"And how are you managing with so many children around you all day?"

"Some days it is harder than others; not knowing until tonight whether my child was a boy or a girl. Always wondering which young face would have been mine at the sorting ceremony, which house he or she would have belonged to. Then watching as those children learned something new and exciting which they would write home to their parents about, then realizing that I could have been one of those lucky parents." She paused and collected herself, "However most days it is a blessing to be around so many, as hypocritical as that may seem."

"Not at all," Dumbledore took the empty seat across from her, clasping her icy hands in his own. "It is good to see you dealing with this and not just brushing it under the carpet."

"It's good to _live_ again."


	10. You Try To Play Me

YOU TRY TO PLAY ME

The trio was pulled from the Pensieve where they quickly decided to continue. There was still so much left to learn and McGonagall had already been gone for several days now. Ron poured the next memory in and they all fell into the past, landing in the transfiguration classroom.

Harry's eyes widened and he walked over to where his dad sat. He was flanked as always by Sirius and just behind them sat Remus and Peter Pettigrew. Sirius was doodling on a scrap piece of paper while James was trying to send a note to Lily who was also trying her hardest to ignore him while she was also failing to hide her smile. They looked young and happy, not at all burdened by life.

"Harry," Hermione had walked up to put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I'm alright, just shocked me is all," Harry returned and gave his father and mother one more look before he tore his eyes away. He found Professor McGonagall at the front of the class sitting behind her desk reading over and marking papers. Her hair was not up in a bun; rather it was left down where it ended just past her shoulders. She still looked quite young even though it was obvious that years had passed from the last memory. She was now wearing the glasses she had at first only had hanging from a gold chain around her neck.

She didn't look up as she said, "Mr. Potter please return your efforts to the assignment. Mr. Black I would also appreciate it if you would stop doodling and return to your work."

James and Sirius looked at each other.

"How does she do it?" Sirius mouthed as he put the scrap of paper in his bag. James only shrugged then grudgingly began working on his assignment. He glanced up once and his eyes narrowed and Harry followed his gaze to where a young Severus Snape sat hunched over his desk. There was no one sitting near him but he didn't seem to mind. However he kept shooting glances to where Lily sat. James was glaring daggers now and Snape couldn't help but feel the hostility as he turned to glare back.

"Talk about house rivalry," Ron said as he caught the exchange. "They really didn't like each other did they?"

"No they didn't," Harry agreed flatly.

The room settled once more and all that could be heard was the scratching of quills on dry parchment. Suddenly there was a rather loud knock on the door and Professor McGonagall looked up sharply removing her glasses to set them down. She stood gracefully and stepped around the desk looking extremely annoyed. Just as she was about to chastise whoever had knocked a young man walked into the room. Minerva's face paled and she clutched onto the desk behind her, knuckles going white. Hermione, Ron and Harry focused on the man now striding confidently down the middle aisle toward Minerva.

"It's him," Hermione exclaimed, "It's her son."

Both Ron and Harry eyed the man and found Hermione to be right. The man had thick black hair cut short and the same startling green eyes as Minerva. He was tall and walked with an innate grace and confidence that went beyond his youthful appearance. Stepping up to a very shocked Minerva he smirked.

"Hello Professor _McGonagall_," he sneered. Minerva was taking deep breaths to combat her shock. Her hand twitched toward her wand and the young man's eyes gave it a furtive glance before settling a very intense look on his mother's face.

"Now we wouldn't want to cause a scene in front of your students would we?" He leaned forward and whispered in her ear as his hand grabbed hold of her wrist. She jerked back from him but was unable to loosen his surprisingly strong grasp. All the students leaned forward in rapt attention. Looking quite desperate her voice rang out in the deathly quiet of the classroom.

"Class is dismissed."

No one moved.

"Now!" Minerva barked in her best teacher's voice and tried to appear calm while still struggling somewhat to get her hand free. The class seemed to come out of their collective trance and immediately set about gathering their things. Once the last student left Minerva looked directly into her son's eyes and her face told of her absolutely heart wrenching desire to drink in every aspect of her child's features while also keeping herself guarded.

"I can see you are surprised to see me," he commented softly and the earlier harsh tone he had used was gone. The trio watched him quickly flick his wand toward the door where they heard the lock click ominously. Minerva shook her head ever so slightly as she thought for a moment, too shocked to realize she was now locked in.

"To say the least," she admitted haltingly, obviously having trouble processing his abrupt appearance; her thoughts no doubt spiraling.

"All these years of dreaming about this meeting is nothing compared to the reality." He spoke eloquently and his voice was deep and rich, something for which he had also inherited from his mother on top of his eyes and hair. His lips were the same shape as Tom Riddle's as well as his jaw line. All of this made for a very handsome young man; combine that with his overwhelming aura of cocky confidence and it was a spell for danger.

Minerva's face relaxed for a moment and Hermione watched the man's face closely. His face was a careful mask of composure but his eyes suddenly turned red as he stared into his mother's eyes.

"Get out," she growled as she jerked her head back. "Get out of my head. Do you not think I would know when someone is invading my mind?"

He smiled broadly flashing straight white teeth and the red disappeared from his eyes. "Father did say you were quite the witch."

"He would know," she responded darkly.

"Enough of this, I prefer not to argue with the mother whom I have been waiting years to meet."

"It's obvious that he's sent you here," she said and gave him a careful sweep with her eyes. "But for what purpose? Surely he knows I will _never_ go back to him."

"Never is a long time," he sneered and his eyes once more turned red for a split second before they resumed their natural green hue. "But that is neither here nor there. Please let us sit and talk, there is so much I have yet to learn about you."

"Why? I am sure he's told you everything you need to know about me."

"Not everything," he purred and stepped closer. She backed up only to bump against her desk.

"I see he's taught you well," she observed and her eyes flashed in warning.

"It comes naturally."

"Something you've inherited from him."

"I have many talents, some of which father tells me are certainly gained from you. If you so desire I would be more than happy to show you." He had moved within inches of her face and his breath caused the hair on the side of her face to move. She shivered and he snaked his arm around her waist only to bring her into a tight embrace. His eyes closed as he ran his arms across her back and inhaled the smell of her hair, sighing gutturally. Minerva had stiffened in alarm, her own eyes closing in anguish.

The trio watched on with morbid fascination. Her son certainly wasn't acting as any child would toward their mother; his bizarre behavior quickly becoming eerie.

"Please," Minerva whispered.

"Say it," he demanded softly at first but his voice became harsh once more as he went on, "Say you want me to let go. Tell me you don't want this."

Minerva pushed him away with a hard shove and he stumbled slightly. He reached for his wand and there was a dangerous glint in his eyes yet he did not raise his wand to her. She faced him with as much determination as she had faced Tom all those years ago.

"How dare you?" He asked quietly.

"I dare many things," Minerva explained calmly.

"That," he said slowly as he advanced towards her, "is apparent."

"It is also apparent that your efforts here are useless."

So quickly that she had no time to move, he grabbed onto both of her upper arms and held her there as she fought to throw him off. His teeth were bared and he looked primal; his eyes a deep glowing red.

"You are just like your father," she spat. Though she was clearly outmatched in strength she still struggled.

"I am what I was born to be," he snarled.

Throughout this whole exchange, all three of the trio had their mouths opened. In fact, Hermione's hand had gone to cover her mouth in horror at the actions of Minerva's son. She was also clutching Ron's arm painfully but he was so involved in the scene that he neither noticed nor cared.

"And what were you born to be?" Minerva asked scathingly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He purred once more, his eyes narrowing as he studied her face. "In fact that is exactly why I am here."

Minerva continued to struggle in vain but his grip did not lessen nor did his intense scrutiny of her face. He began to drag her along with him back toward her office and her eyes turned wild.

"Let go of me," she said loudly, almost screaming by now. He laughed at her demand and continued dragging her.

"Don't worry, you'll thank me."

As his hand grabbed hold of the door handle there was loud banging on the classroom door. He whipped his head around and Minerva looked relieved.

"Minerva? Minerva!" Albus Dumbledore's voice could be heard clearly through the wooden door.

"That meddling old fool."

"He is more of a…" Minerva began but was cut off by a vicious look from her son.

"Do not finish that statement. I have been patient so far but I fear that I will lose all of my patience if you insist on defending that man."

"Minerva!" Dumbledore's voice was becoming more urgent and a moment later the door was blown away and he strode into the room looking murderously terrified. It was strange to see him so out of control, so strange that Harry could hardly believe what he was seeing. Minerva renewed her struggles to escape her son's grip but again he proved too strong.

"Hello Dumbledore," he sneered and brought his wand up to Minerva's throat. "One more step and I kill your whore."

"You bastard," Minerva ground out.

"As I recall, you and father are still married and were married when I was conceived. So that definitely proves that I am not a bastard." He whispered so only Minerva could hear, his voice conversational.

"I won't let you harm her," Dumbledore said and his voice was calm and level whereas his eyes betrayed his anger.

"So how are we going to proceed with this?"

"You are going to let your mother go," Dumbledore responded to the taunt. "Oh yes, I know who you are," he said as the young man's eyes widened. "How could I not recognize how much of your mother you have inherited? I see you have also inherited your father's ignorance as well as his all encompassing arrogance."

The wand pointed toward Minerva's throat was now pushed painfully hard into the soft flesh. She breathed in sharply but otherwise did not give any other indication of her discomfort. Without thought Harry had stepped forward, his wand held tightly in his hand. He could not believe what was happening, what he was witnessing. For the first time since he had begun watching the memories that his professor had left, he truly felt the weight of what had been placed on their shoulders. This was beyond simply hiding a marriage, hiding a relationship with the most feared wizard of all time. No, this was more about the pain that she had kept hidden for most of her life. And when finally faced with the physical proof of her pain it was almost unbearable to witness as once more her soul seemed to shatter before his eyes.

"You do not know what you are talking about old man."

Dumbledore almost flinched at the amount of disdain present in the man's voice. Minerva bristled and there was a dangerous gleam in her eye. Without any warning her hand shot up and pushed the wand away from her throat and in one fluid motion she punched him in the face. The sickening crunch could be heard as it echoed around the silent classroom. He stumbled back a few steps where he regained his footing and then leveled his gaze on her trembling body. At first the trio thought she was too frightened to move but then they realized she was shaking with anger.

"You're manners certainly need improving," he said and for the first time there was a note of caution creeping into the deep rich voice.

"I will give you one chance to leave before we send your body back to your father." Minerva growled as she raised her wand, sparks actually shooting from the end. "I'm positive that is not what he had in mind when he sent you here."

"Whether you believe me or not, it was my idea." Her son responded quietly after a long moment.

"Speak up," she ordered sharply.

"It was my idea." He practically shouted and his face flushed slightly. "I was not deceiving you when I told of my desire to see you. You're my mother," he stepped forward involuntarily and Minerva's hand tightened around her wand. Taking the hint he stepped back. "I have been told all of my life what a remarkable woman you are and this coming from my father, the man who does not give praise lightly if at all. So I suggested that I come to Hogwarts in order to persuade you to return to him. We both knew it would be impossible, we both knew my real motives, and we both recognized that none of it mattered."

"And what does matter?" Minerva asked the sharp edge to her voice barely discernible.

"Meeting you," he admitted softly. Before anyone could say or do anything he was gone; just like that. By the shocked expressions on both Albus and Minerva's face he wasn't supposed to be able to apparate out of the castle.

"Bloody hell," she breathed and walked forward in a daze.

"Minerva," Dumbledore whispered walking forward and gently put his arm around her shoulders. She stood there and accepted the comfort but then looked up at him, her eyes shining in worry.

"What have I done?"


	11. Feel Your Heavy Hand

FEEL YOUR HEAVY HAND

"What have I done?"

Albus looked down at Minerva with a mixture of anger and sympathy.

"How can you even begin to blame yourself for this? No," he said forcefully as Minerva opened her mouth to protest. "Minerva hear me out. Yes you did make a conscious decision to marry Tom, and you did follow him; but _how_ willingly? He fooled you, manipulated you into trusting him. In the end you decided to leave him and all of his lies behind. You did that, no one else and that is what matters. You have also done all you could these past twenty years to stop him."

The trio watched as Minerva took in what Dumbledore was saying. They could see her shoulders sagging slightly from the events which had happened only moments earlier. Then she straightened them and managed to look Dumbledore in the eye.

"How succinct of you," she said and then began to worry her lip between her teeth. "I do not even know where to begin how I feel right now. Assuredly angry," she was now pacing and talking as though to herself, "perhaps a little ecstatic at finally meeting my son. He is already twenty-two years old and I have only just met him. Is he not like his father?"

"Frighteningly alike," Dumbledore agreed and his eyes clouded.

"When he told me that never was a long time," she shuddered at the recollection, "I could see Tom so clearly; hear his voice as he told me the exact same thing all those years ago. There is no doubt he has raised my son to believe in the twisted principles he holds so dear. His voice was so like Tom's, right down to the way he insulted you."

"My dear, his insults do not affect me in the slightest." Dumbledore explained as he saw the indignant expression on Minerva's face. "What does affect me is the obvious pain he has inflicted on you."

"But he is my son," she whispered and clutched onto his arm, her long slender fingers turning white with tension. "I still do not even know his name."

Hermione gasped when the scene dissolved instantly and the three were standing once more in Professor McGonagall's bathroom. It was the McGonagall they knew but now they could see past the veil she kept firmly over her eyes. They could see it flutter as she faltered for a moment, possibly realizing that whoever was watching these now knew all of the dark secrets that she had kept hidden for the majority of her life.

"From the moment that my son walked into my classroom I knew that he had been twisted by Tom; raised in a way that no child should be. His very presence radiated the Dark Arts and something far more sinister that not even I, his mother, could ignore. It was only years later that I learned his name: Devon." She paused and then gave a sharp bitter laugh and hung her head. "Tom told me himself after he had abducted me one night as I was heading back from James and Lily Potter's wedding. It was nothing short of a miracle that Albus was able to get me out before Tom…" here she faltered and the trio noticed that her hands shook.

"Before he took me with him as he disappeared again," she finished softly. With her head still hanging she began to speak, the words sounding as though they were being torn from her throat. "James and Lily were married and soon had a baby on the way, everything should have been perfect but the threat of a new dark lord was looming. Lord Voldemort," she shivered as she forced the name out. "He was fast gaining more power, more influence, and more followers. It was a time of war where many people were fighting down not only fear but the threat of death. It was in the air and you could feel the panic as Tom played his cards well.

"Finally, and I say this with the heaviest of hearts, the wizarding world was given a tremendous gift at a high cost. The Dark Lord was defeated when Lily and James sacrificed themselves to save their young son." She raised her head and stared at her image, tears sliding down her cheeks. "Even now I feel the loss of two such wonderful people; their deaths caused a ripple across the wizarding community that is still resonating today. However, I knew that Tom was not gone for good, somehow he must have managed to escape death."

Harry felt tears burning behind his eyes but refused to let them drop. He had never known Professor McGonagall to have had such deep feelings for his parents. Closing his eyes briefly he collected himself and opened them to find McGonagall taking a deep breath.

"The next memory is before the death of the Potter's and it shows my first meeting with the newly appointed Potions Professor."

The trio was transported now to the entrance hall of Hogwarts where a younger Minerva was standing next to Dumbledore. She checked her watch once and then looked up at the Headmaster, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Are you quite sure?" She asked quietly.

"Positively," he answered smoothly and in all honesty, the three of them detected a note of irritation entering his voice.

"Just checking," Minerva muttered as she turned away to face the enormous wooden doors.

"How many times do I have to tell you to trust me in this?" Dumbledore suddenly asked.

"That will do Headmaster," she answered calmly in the face of his frustration. "It is not out of distrust and neither is it out of disbelief, but I am merely making sure."

"Making sure that I have not made a grave mistake no doubt," it was now Dumbledore's turn to mutter but Minerva caught his words and her eyebrows rose.

"No," she answered sternly, "making sure that I understand it correctly. Forgive me if I do not so easily give amnesty to a former Death Eater."

Dumbledore sighed and his hand twitched and the trio could only assume that he wanted nothing more than to touch her arm in reassurance. But at that moment the doors creaked open and Severus Snape walked in. He had the same sour expression on his face, hair still as greasy but his clothes had certainly improved; they were impeccable. Almost imperceptibly Minerva stiffened but she kept her cool as the former Death Eater walked up to greet them.

"Headmaster," he said in his silky voice.

"Severus welcome," Dumbledore greeted cordially and then gestured to Minerva. "You remember Minerva."

"Professor McGonagall," Snape bowed his head but before he lowered his gaze, Hermione caught the tiniest flash of unease before it was gone. He raised his head and met Minerva's eyes with his own, black boring into green.

"Please Severus, we are colleagues now. Call me Minerva."

"Of course," he replied. Tension filled the atmosphere around the two and it was only broken when Dumbledore spoke.

"It is good to see you Severus but I am afraid I have business to attend to. Minerva has offered to show you to your rooms."

"I understand Headmaster, thank you for greeting me."

"Minerva, Severus," Dumbledore said before he walked off leaving Minerva alone with Snape.

"This way," she said and led the way out of the hall and into a corridor. Several silent moments passed as they walked further away from the hall down into the dungeons. "Per your request, Albus has had the elves set up your chambers near to your classroom."

"Yes," Snape replied simply and silence fell once more.

Reaching a non-descript door Minerva stopped and Snape, completely wrapped in his thoughts, almost ran into her.

"Here you are. Severus," she looked at him fully and her look was guarded, "if you ever need anything you can always come to me."

"I will keep that in mind," he said and then after the tiniest of hesitation he added, "Minerva."

She smiled and it almost reached her eyes. Stepping back she turned on her heel and walked several steps before stopping and swinging her gaze back to where he stood watching her walk away.

"Oh and Severus," she took a few steps toward him. "If you try to enter my mind again I will not hesitate to make sure you never enter anyone else's mind ever again. Am I clear?"

Snape's pale face drained of the little color he had; nodding his head quickly. Minerva gave him a perfectly polite smile and bid him goodnight before walking away. Harry, Hermione and Ron were pulled from the memory and deposited back in the circular room with their mouths still open in amazement.

"Let's eat," Ron suggested awkwardly after a very long pause, effectively breaking the tense moment.

"Yeah," Harry agreed and they exited the room. Deciding it would be best to avoid anymore questions they summoned a house elf to get them some dinner. The sky had darkened and it was obvious they had been in the Pensieve nearly all day. And it was clear to all three that they were going to be spending the entire night viewing more memories. It would be useless trying to sleep and it wasn't as if they hadn't pulled all-nighters before. The food arrived and while they ate they discussed what they had seen.

"Devon," Hermione breathed through a mouthful of roast after pondering the name for a moment.

"Yeah and she found out from Voldemort personally," Ron pointed out. "I wonder why she didn't put that in there," his voice was border line pouting and Hermione looked at him incredulously.

"This isn't some form of entertainment Ron. She most likely didn't put it in because it's either too painful or too personal."

"I thought we'd crossed that line," Harry spoke up. Hermione gave him a sharp glare and he quickly took a bite to avert his gaze.

"Whatever happened she obviously didn't want _anyone_ to see. Besides I, for one, am more curious as to how Snape must have handled working alongside her. It must have been awfully uncomfortable."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Didn't you see the way he looked at her? He was clearly unnerved by her and not just because she had been his professor for seven years. And don't ask me why because I don't know," Hermione spoke preemptively.

"I believe you," Ron said enthusiastically.

Hermione gave him a withering look and then turned to Harry.

"Think about it," she began eagerly. "McGonagall knew that Snape was a Death Eater _and_ she most likely knew that he was also one of Voldemort's most trusted servants. What we don't know is if Dumbledore told McGonagall why Snape turned from Voldemort."

"She didn't look very convinced," Harry said.

"Not at the beginning no," Hermione agreed. "That doesn't mean that she would eventually come to trust him. The big question is why did Snape look so rattled when he was face to face with McGonagall once again?"

"It's got to be in the memories somewhere." Ron pointed out and then noticed that his plate was clear. He looked over at Hermione's nearly untouched food and she got the hint.

"Go ahead; I don't think I can eat anything more."

"Cheers," Ron said as he quickly pulled her plate over to himself. He finished eating and the conversation died, the only sound was his chewing. When he had cleared Hermione's plate as well he looked up expectantly.

"More memories?" He asked and both Harry and Hermione nodded.

Quickly entering the secret room they walked to the Pensieve and silently Hermione opened the cabinet to reveal the vials of memories. She sighed heavily and Ron laid his hand comfortingly on her shoulder and she grabbed his hand with her own.

"I just can't help but feel so sad for Professor McGonagall." She said quietly.

Harry nodded, "Me too. But we can't stop now, we're so close to figuring this out; I can feel it."

"Yeah Hermione, what we're doing is for McGonagall." Ron affirmed.

"Of course you're right," Hermione spoke quietly and then stood. Pouring the memory in all three stepped closer and touched the shimmering liquid.

They landed in McGonagall's office where she was currently sitting at her desk, glasses on and reading over papers. Snow was falling heavily past the window behind her and they could hear the wind howling as it buffeted the castle. Minerva paid it no mind as she was completely focused on her work. Harry gazed around and while his eyes swept the room he saw the door open silently.

Snape walked in and stood in the doorway; his face unreadable as it was hidden in shadow, his frame outlined by the light flooding in from the corridor. He stood there and stared at Minerva and though they couldn't see his face they could feel the intensity of his gaze. She must have felt it too because she looked up slowly and her eyebrows rose.

"I wondered how long it would take for you to corner me," she commented quietly. Removing her glasses she leaned back in her chair and rested her hands on the sides of the chair, looking completely at ease.

"Oh," Snape drawled as he finally stepped into the room, "I'm sure there are many things you are wondering about me."

"Not as many as you are wondering about me," she returned evenly.

"Astute as always Professor," Snape responded and he walked forward a few more steps. He was taking his time in getting closer and it was apparent that both knew of the fine line they were walking. She inclined her head in acknowledgement. The trio felt like they were watching a tennis match; heads turning back and forth between their future professors. Snape had finally made his way to her desk and once more stood there staring into Minerva's face.

"I told you once Severus, do not even try and attempt to enter my mind," she warned quietly.

"I know and I have no intention of invading your thoughts. I would not like to rouse anger, especially from someone so very…" he stopped and a sly smile appeared on his face, "remarkable."

Minerva's eyes widened ever so slightly at his very careful use of words.

"I cannot assume you came up with that particular description all on your own can I?"

"Oh yes, I remember that day so vividly." Snape responded and he casually leaned his hip into her desk, picked up one of the many objects littered across the surface and turned it around in his hand.

"So it was you who went to get Albus," she remarked.

Suddenly Snape's calm demeanor changed and he threw the object down harshly and turned to place both hands roughly on the desk, facing her with an intense, almost animal like expression.

"Who are you?"

"I suspect you know the answer."

"I know what you want people to believe, but I have seen otherwise. That man who interrupted our class was not just some random admirer, contrary to popular rumor. I imagine he was much more involved than that given the nature of your conversation with him."

It was Minerva's turn to sit up straight, eyes blazing.

"You cannot even begin to comprehend what you do not know."

"I know that the Dark Lord –"

"Don't," Minerva practically growled.

"I think I will," Snape said and he leaned even further toward her. "Do you know that he still keeps a photo of you? He keeps it with him at all times in fact."

Minerva gasped and her hands clutched the armrests of her chair, eyes closing in distress. Snape looked almost satisfied at her reaction and he went on, apparently intent on causing her even more pain. That or he wanted to rile her enough to get some answers.

"There are very, very few who have even seen that photo and I do have to say your hair is far lovelier when you grow it out."

Her eyes shot open and she pierced him with a scorching glare. She stood up slowly and faced him at her full height.

"Who else have you told?" Her tone was dangerously low and there was a clear warning in the gaze she leveled on him.

"No one," he responded. He had stiffened, completely unprepared for the wrath he had brought on himself.

"And I am to trust the word of a Death Eater?" She gave a bitter laugh. "Why bring this up? What have you to gain?"

"I have nothing to gain, merely curious."

"Again, why would I trust you? Your word, as a Death Eater, means nothing to me," her tone was now so low that it was barely above a growl.

"Former Death Eater," Snape corrected. "Whether you believe me or not has no relevance. I have only decided to tell you because it has been weighing on my mind since the first time I saw your image captured in the photo."

"Believing you has every relevance Severus," Minerva commented. "You are not merely curious, you want answers." Snape looked up hopefully but she quelled it with a hard frown, "Answers I will not give you. As I'm sure you suspected when you decided to try and wheedle them out of me."

"I do not wheedle," his voice was almost sulky.

"Then what do you call what you are doing here in my office?"

Snape's shoulders slumped and he paused for a long moment in which his emotions played across his face. "Minerva I am sorry. Please understand that I have only come out of desperation. It's not everyday that one learns their professor once had relations with the Dark Lord."

Minerva sighed, "I do understand, all too well."

Snape eyed her for a moment and then swept his gaze over the rest of her body that he could see above the desk. For a split second there was clear adoration but then it was masked as he put his façade back in place.

"I had hoped to clear the air," he spoke quietly but with firm resolve.

"We shall have to settle for acknowledgement." Minerva returned in kind. "You have informed me that you know of my involvement with…him," she faltered for the smallest of moments but Snape caught it. "We can now move on and hopefully continue working together."

"Most assuredly," he agreed readily. She stared at him for several quiet seconds before she responded.

"I trust Albus when he tells me that you have truly changed. It is my hope that, in time, I will come to trust you as well. I see great potential in you and this is not just coming from your old professor. You have incredible skills and I have always sensed a desire in you that comes from wanting to prove yourself. Here's your chance Severus, prove to me that a once loyal Death Eater can redeem himself and genuinely change."

"If there was ever anyone I did not want to disappoint it would be you Professor," he said and the title he had known her as had slipped so easily past his lips that she couldn't help but smile softly.

"That will do Severus. Now I do think it is time I return to my work." She sat back down in her chair and perched her glasses back on her nose. Snape stood still for a brief second before he turned swiftly and walked toward the door. Before he reached it she called out, "And I was not lying when I said that if you ever are in need of anything, my door is always open."

He turned and nodded, silently acknowledging the promise.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were pulled from the Pensieve where Ron immediately began speculating.

"Maybe Dumbledore eventually told her about the real reasons for Snape turning. Or she just eventually did learn to trust him; they did work together for years."

Hermione looked at him with shock. Harry saw how surprised she was that Ron was the first to so willingly engage the first discussion. Deciding to forge ahead, Harry spoke up.

"I don't think Dumbledore ever told anyone the real reason he trusted Snape so much. I reckon it's because they worked together, McGonagall seems like a good judge of character."

"Yes she was, but we're still no closer to finding out where she is." Hermione added and she sounded defeated.

"How can you say that?" Harry asked incredulously. "Of course we're closer! Knowing about Devon gives us a pretty good idea about who was behind her abduction."

"Oh," Hermione looked genuinely taken aback by that idea. "I hadn't even thought of it. I've been so selfish; here I was completely focused on my own feelings about this."

"No worries, that's what we're here for," Ron threw in.

"So where does that leave us?" Hermione asked and she turned to face Harry.

"We know where Voldemort went to disappear, and I can only assume that that is where he stayed while Devon grew up. Perhaps that's where she was taken," Harry said and his tone turned questioning.

"Perhaps," Hermione mused, mulling over the information they knew for sure.

"Look, we've still got some memories to go through. Let's get that done and then we can at least give some answers to the others," Ron suggested.

"Yeah, might as well finish this before we run off without knowing everything we can." Harry agreed and both he and Ron turned to face Hermione.

She looked vaguely doubtful but in the face of their logic she couldn't help but agree. So Harry went to retrieve the next vial and poured it in. Once more they entered their professor's memories and hoped to hell that it would provide the answers they were so desperately looking for.


	12. This Cloud Hangs Over Me

THIS CLOUD HANGS OVER ME

Hermione, Ron and Harry landed in the Headmaster's office where an agitated Minerva was pacing while Snape sat in one of the chairs facing the desk. He looked calm but his eyes were very intensely watching Minerva as she continued to walk back and forth, her strides quick and strong.

"What is taking him so long?" She questioned the room at large.

"I am sure he will be here," Snape reassured and surprisingly his voice was gentle. He was still staring at her and she whipped around to face him, her hair swinging with the force.

"Don't placate me," she began but at the subtle flash of hurt that crossed his face she quickly walked over to him and clasped his hands in her own. "I'm sorry, but this whole thing has set me on edge."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she whispered and sat down opposite him in the other chair, still holding onto his hands.

"Minerva your hands are like ice," Snape commented.

"Oh they never seem to warm, bad circulation I suppose."

"Or could it be the anxiety your so afraid of," he suggested softly. She became indignant at his suggestion and hastily removed her hands. "You know I'm only concerned for your wellbeing. These are strange times; none of us blame you for worrying."

"Then why aren't any of you worried?" She asked and stood, pacing once more.

"We are," he assured her and he too stood to face her. Before he could say anymore, the door to the office opened and Dumbledore strode in. Spotting the two professors in his office he walked over to where Minerva had her arms wrapped around her stomach protectively and gently took her into a warm embrace.

Harry tore his eyes from the tender display and noticed that Snape had a mixture of jealousy and discomfort playing in his eyes. He masked it just in time for Dumbledore to turn to him. Minerva, it seemed, had let some tears fall and she was hastily wiping them away. Snape's mouth thinned and he looked pained by the sheer amount of distress that she was obviously dealing with.

"Severus I hope you have been keeping an eye on him?" Dumbledore asked shrewdly.

"Of course Headmaster," Snape bowed his head faintly before meeting Dumbledore's gaze evenly. "He has not done anything too suspicious, although I do have my reservations about his prowling the castle at night."

Minerva was looking between the two men with her own mixture of outrage and disbelief.

"How could you not have told me?" She asked her voice almost shrill, and when Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak she stopped him. "No Albus, I want to know the truth. What have you two cooked up that's so important that not even I know about it?"

"It was only a precaution." Severus interjected smoothly and was met with a fiery glare from Minerva and he faltered before going on. "Without your initial suspicion we may not have had enough foresight to even monitor him."

"Minerva," Dumbledore addressed her as he softly grabbed her upper arms. "We didn't tell you not out of subterfuge but out of caution. Making sure that Quirrell was really up to something before telling you was critical. You have so much on your mind already, adding unnecessary anxiety was the last thing I want."

"Anxiety?" Minerva questioned and her voice now reached a new level of shrill. "Is that what you think I'm feeling? No I'm feeling more than anxiety, I'm feeling terrified." She had calmed down and was now speaking her normal tone.

"What has you so terrified?" Dumbledore asked.

"I don't know," Minerva admitted and after a long pause she straightened and looked to Severus. "What have you learned then? Are my fears justified?"

"Oh no, you're not getting out of answering my question." Dumbledore called her out and she had the grace to blush ever so faintly. "Why are you so scared of him?"

"I'm not scared of him, honestly," she hastened to add when she was sent identical looks of disbelief. "When first I met Quirrell I had none of these misgivings, but since he came back from his travels there is a definite aura about him."

"Aura?" Severus asked.

Minerva did not answer right away; instead she looked down as if she were very self-conscious of what she was going to say. She looked to Dumbledore pointedly and he seemed to understand her silent communication.

"I see," Dumbledore commented and coughed delicately.

"I do not," Severus spoke and his voice was deep.

"It's the same feeling I get when near Tom," Minerva burst out. "I can't describe it, I feel Quirrell staring at me but when I look his back is to me. When I walk the castle at night he always seems to find me. It's almost as if he is seeking me out and when he does manage to get close enough there are such strong vibes; dark vibes." She shuddered at the recollections and Dumbledore immediately went to comfort her. With his arm wrapped securely around her shoulders he looked to Snape.

"Quirrell took a year off to get some real field experience. Subsequently his travels brought him to Albania."

Severus nodded solemnly at this, already knowing the implications.

"I don't think we need to tell you what that means," Minerva pointed out, still taking solace in the warmth of Dumbledore's arm.

"No, I know the area very well. Do you really think that the Dark Lord has somehow gotten to him?"

"Who's to say? Many believe that Lord Voldemort is defeated, however I can only assume that the two of you know better." Dumbledore said and looked between Minerva and Snape. Both nodded and it was Snape's turn to address Dumbledore.

"I am certain he is not gone, nor am I certain how he managed to evade death." He paused and looked at Minerva, "Or how he is continuing to live despite the overwhelming odds."

"That may be the very answer we could receive from Quirrell himself." Minerva muttered.

"That's exactly why we will continue monitoring him," Dumbledore said and there was no need for him to issue an order. All three of them knew the importance in their surveillance of the Defense Against the Darks Arts Professor. He did however give each of them a lingering gaze, one that left no doubt about what he expected of them.

"As always Headmaster," Snape said a little cryptically and then abruptly turned to leave. Minerva was staring after him, excused herself and then practically jogged to catch up to him. The trio followed quickly as the two rode down the spiral staircase, normally a short journey but the strained silence made the trip seem unbearably long. At the last possible moment before the stairs stopped moving, Minerva finally spoke.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice came out soft and there was definite hurt.

Snape sighed, "Albus did not want to burden you if unnecessary."

"I'm not asking why Albus did not tell me, I'm asking why you didn't." Minerva retorted and again she could not disguise the hurt that crept into her voice.

The stairs had stopped moving and they walked into the corridor before Snape replied, "I too felt it unwise."

She stopped and gave him a scrutinizing look. It was clear she didn't believe him and when he noticed she no longer was walking next to him, he turned back to find her.

"Minerva, I don't know what you want from me."

"I want the truth." She answered bluntly.

"The truth is sometimes too complicated," he returned wearily.

"It's also the only thing that will sufficiently answer my question." She began walking toward him and when she swept past him, indecision flashed across his face. With his mouth set in a thin line, he caught up to her.

"Minerva," he breathed and matched his strides to her rather long ones. "To answer your question will, I believe, cause more heartache than not knowing."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Minerva asked, eying him as she continued her rapid pace.

"It means," he ground out, "that I am completely uncomfortable with telling you my real concerns."

"Severus," she spun on the spot and faced him, putting a stop to their fast-paced walk. "We both know each other's darkest secrets and if that's not enough for you to trust me, then perhaps I've been wrong in my trust of you."

The trio was surprised to hear the sheer amount of hurt in Minerva's voice; they hadn't realized she had become such a good friend of Snape's. They were also surprised, maybe more so, at the reaction he gave upon her statement. His shoulders slumped and he ran his hand wearily down his face. In fact, both his hands shook so badly it was surprising he could actually do more than just let them hang by his sides.

Looking her straight in the eye he said, "Please don't do this."

"Do what?" There was a clear purpose in her eyes; she wanted him to explain what he was feeling, wanted to hear him say it.

"Don't turn away from me; I don't think I can bear it."

"Oh Severus," Minerva sighed, regarding him with a thoroughly desolate expression.

"I didn't want to tell you because I couldn't see you suffer." Snape admitted softly. "If what I suspect is true than you may be in more danger than even Potter himself."

Minerva's eyes narrowed but not out of anger. She was now looking at him with an unreadable expression and the trio could not help but wonder what exactly she was thinking.

"Thank you for being honest with me," she said and lightly touched his arm. "We are quite a pair aren't we?"

He looked up from the floor where he had been staring, giving her a sharp look. "Speaking of pairs, Minerva," he began slowly, "I can't help but notice you and Albus seem to be very close."

"We are close," she responded shortly. "I don't think that has anything to do with the current situation, nor doest it matter."

"It matters to me," he growled and without warning his arms shot out and he caught her upper arms in a vice like grip and shoved her up against the wall. She yelped in surprise but he paid no heed. His eyes were boring into hers and she looked to be in a trance. For several seconds they remained that way until Minerva's head shook violently side to side. She managed to throw his arms away from her where he stumbled back, and stood breathing heavily. When she spoke it was with deadly calm.

"How dare you."

Snape, for his part, looked torn between relief and shame.

"I have warned you," she began but before she could say any more he interrupted.

"I had to know," he defended.

"Yet you still didn't listen," she went on as though he hadn't said anything. "Did you think a few years would make a difference?"

"I had to know," he repeated. "And no, I did not think you had changed your stance. I knew the risks and sometimes the rewards are worth it."

"You think delving into my private memories is worth the reward of knowing. And what exactly did you think to find?" Her voice cut the air like a knife and Snape winced at the cruel tone.

"The truth," he answered simply, "something which you will not share."

"It's not for anyone to see!" She exploded. Taking several steps toward him her eyes were lit up in anger that the trio hadn't seen in a long time. "The time I spend with Albus is my own choice, no matter how I choose to spend it."

"You aren't even involved," Snape pointed out and the trio cringed. Even Ron knew that this was the wrong thing to say to a severely irate Minerva.

"That does not matter. You violated my mind, my memories against my will. You still haven't learned have you?"

"I have learned enough," Snape said and turned to walk away thinking it was over.

"No," Minerva said and she caught his arm swinging him to face her once more. "This can't be left like this. We have too much between us to just walk away. I want to know why you decided to break my trust."

"I did not mean to break your trust." His eyes were looking past her face, clearly unable to meet her wounded gaze.

"Then why?"

"I don't know why. Truly Minerva, it was so sudden and I could not stop myself. The desire to see for myself quite overruled any good sense I might have had."

"What did you hope to find?" Her tone had calmed and she was now whispering.

There was a very long pause in which Snape stood rooted to the spot. Finally he looked into her eyes and gave her one of the most forthright answers that one could expect.

"I needed to know if you and Dumbledore were having an affair."

Her eyes widened at his honesty but otherwise she remained calm.

"Although I cannot imagine why that is so important to you, it is nevertheless of no consequence to either you or the situation."

"There is consequence in everything you do," Snape responded heatedly. "Don't you see Minerva? You are perhaps one of the most important elements in this war. The Dark Lord may be gone but he is not dead. And when he rises to power once more, for which we are sure he will, you may be the key to our success. He will do almost anything to win, anything except harm you."

"And you think that will make a difference?"

"You may ridicule me all you want but it is the truth. You have not seen him when he is without you. He may present a very sure minded, strong and merciless front, but behind it all he misses you."

"He doesn't miss me, he misses the control."

"That may be true, but there is a part of him which craves to be with you. Either," he held up his hand to forestall what she was about to say, "to have you willingly or unwillingly. I do not believe he sees much difference between the two."

Minerva seemed to take in what he was saying and chewed on her lip as she thought. "That is entirely too accurate. When did you become so gifted at understanding him?"

"When I became one of his most loyal followers," he replied bitterly.

The memory faded and the trio found themselves once more in McGonagall's bathroom. She was staring off and then collected herself before facing the mirror. Her eyes were clouded, no doubt from the memory she had just pulled.

"I am showing these memories of Severus because I was never fully convinced of his betrayal. Oh I am sure that he killed Albus, but for what purpose and on whose authority? These are the questions that haunt me and cause me to doubt everything that points to his supposed treachery." She stopped and all three of them could see her knuckles turn white as she grasped the edge of the sink.

"Even with his appointment as Headmaster I can see the subtle differences between a true follower and one who is going through the motions. It would be so easy for him to make life here in the castle hell, however I see the painstaking way he makes it seem as though he enjoys tormenting the students and staff alike. Yet when we are alone I can feel that he wants to reach out, wants to tell me something. I do not know as of yet if he is still Albus' trusted spy or if he has been faithful to Voldemort all these years." She shuddered upon saying the Dark Lord's name, even after all these years her disgust was still very present.

"I look back on these memories and cherish them. Who knows? Maybe my memories will be his saving grace; I am after all the key to this whole war. His words not mine," she muttered and then gathered herself together. "So it is with great regret that I cannot determine the true nature of that man. In the last year of Albus' life he became very secretive and distant. I can only assume that Albus was trying to shield me from more heartbreak but he was doing the opposite.

"Severus in turn became just as distant. I knew they were withholding information from me and I was disheartened by it. Either they didn't trust me or were once again protecting me is still a mystery. All I know is that I feel so very alone and even in that I am not allowed solace. But I digress," she said firmly and wiped away the few tears that had escaped. "There are still more memories that I have yet to sort through and so little time to do it."

Hermione jumped and the two boys instantly raised their wands when a loud bang could be heard. Realizing that it was in the memory they watched anxiously to see what would happen. Minerva had also whipped her head around at the noise and looked back at the mirror.

"I just hope that they are enough," she said and the scene faded leaving the trio standing in the dark room once more, gazing down at the Pensieve with identical looks of shock.


	13. Page Inside A Spiral Notebook

PAGE INSIDE A SPIRAL NOTEBOOK

"Alright," Harry said slowly.

"That was," Hermione began and she halted trying to find the right words, "startling."

"What? The fact that she and Snape became good friends or that she wasn't convinced he was evil?" Ron questioned and he too was looking as confused as Hermione and Harry.

"I'm not so shocked at their close relationship," Hermione explained. "I'm shocked that she questioned his allegiance and motives. Now I'm wondering just how much Dumbledore confided in her."

"Yeah, like did he tell her about the horcruxes?" Harry chimed in. "I doubt he had, she did say that he became secretive the year before he died."

"That would explain her reluctance to outright blame Snape for his actions. She wouldn't have known exactly what Dumbledore had planned, nor of their ultimate goal." Hermione explained.

"Goal is quite an understatement," Harry pointed out.

"Regardless of the wording, it makes no sense that she would doubt him without some real proof." Hermione said.

"She said it herself," Ron interjected and received questioning stares. "It was intuition. All those years that they knew each other must have given her some insight into his personality."

"True," Hermione agreed and checked her watch. "We still have time to try and get some sleep."

Harry looked at her doubtfully. "I know I won't be able to sleep."

"I might be able to," Ron said and quickly added, "but its best if we keep going."

Hermione nodded and bent down to get the next vial of memories. Pouring it in she couldn't help but wonder what would be next and voiced her concern.

"Well its all been chronological so far," Harry mused out loud. "No doubt she starts up where she left off."

"Okay so we left off our first year at school. Let's see where she takes us next," Ron said as he stepped closer to the Pensieve.

At the same time the three of them touched the surface and found themselves standing in the staff room, looking around in curiosity. They found Minerva sitting in a chair by the fire with her hands clasped in front of her, back ramrod straight. This time it was Snape who was pacing the floor anxiously, shooting worried looks at the door every few seconds. There were no other occupants in the room and no way of knowing where in time the memory was taking place.

"Is it me," Snape began, "or does Potter seem to attract trouble?"

"It would appear so," Minerva returned and gave him a weary look. "It is not the boy's fault Severus. His fate was sealed the day Voldemort," she winced but went on, "targeted him. Your prejudice against him, though unfounded, may actually help him."

Harry stared at his professor as if she might have gone mad and noticed that Snape had a similar expression.

"Whatever are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that your constant surveillance of Potter has kept us well informed of almost every move he has made," she held up her hand to stem his argument. "Which has provided immense relief to me; I can sleep easy knowing you are out there keeping such a careful eye on all his wanderings."

All the steam left Snape and he actually managed a feeble smile when he noticed the twinkle in Minerva's eyes. The momentary lift in mood vanished and the two settled down to silence once more, Snape pacing even more rigorously.

"Unfortunately I haven't been much help now," Snape suddenly burst out.

"It is not your fault," Minerva said with conviction. "How were we to know that the Chamber of Secrets would actually be found much less opened?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione knew instantly that this must now be their second year, the year in which Voldemort's first horcrux was put to use. It also bore with it the old familiar feeling of dread when they recalled the horrendous events leading up to Harry and Ron's foray into the Chamber.

"You mean to say that when you were at school with the Dark Lord you did not believe that the Chamber was real?" Snape asked.

"Of course not," Minerva replied wearily and her fingers went to massage her temple. "It was believed that Hagrid had been the culprit. Albus and I were not as close then and he never once told me of his suspicions concerning the real culprit until just this year."

"Yes, I forget that you were once a mere student." Snape said quietly to himself but Minerva's sharp hearing caught his words. Giving him a strange look she placed her hand back into her lap and stared into the fire.

The door swung open and Dumbledore strode in, his shoulders sagging wearily.

"She has indeed been taken," he spoke quietly and Minerva was at his side instantly. She began to wrap her arms around his waist but was interrupted by a flurry of activity outside the room. Only Minerva's quick actions made it possible for her to remove her hands before the rest of the staff filed in.

The scene dissolved and reappeared, this time the three landing once more in Minerva's personal chambers. Dumbledore was seated in one of the two chairs facing the fireplace and was intently watching Minerva as she prepared tea. Her movements were jagged and clumsy, it was clear something had shaken her.

"So you believe that the diary was indeed a horcrux?" She questioned and much like her actions her voice shook.

"Yes," he answered solemnly. "I am only glad that none of the children were hurt."

"Tell that to Ginevra," Minerva remarked darkly. "But she is strong; surely she will get through this."

Dumbledore's eyes softened at the earnest tone of her voice. "I have every faith in her strength. The real reason I am here is to ask how you are doing."

"Fine," she answered too quickly and when Dumbledore cast her an unconvinced look she hastened to add, "Considering."

"Considering that Lord Voldemort had a very real chance to return this very night."

Minerva shuddered and the tea she had been pouring spilled over the sides. Dumbledore quickly fixed it wandlessly and turned to a very pale Minerva.

"How many more are there? How much more must I endure?" She asked softly, hanging her head in her hands. The tea was forgotten as a heavy silence settled on them.

Dumbledore reached over, grabbed her chin gently and tilted her face up. "I do not know the answer to your first question; however I can tell you that I will be here every step of the way. You will not endure this alone."

"Thank you," Minerva said huskily. She had tears pooling in her eyes but they did not fall.

"Do not worry Minerva, we will fight this and win."

Minerva smiled but it did not reach her eyes. There was a knock on her door and both turned their heads to look at it. Minerva stood, walked to the door and was nearly bowled over as Snape barged in. He looked around wildly and when his eyes fell on Minerva he wrapped his arms around her in a crushing embrace.

"Minerva, my God are you alright?"

"I am fine," she answered and was allowed to breathe once more as Snape stepped back, hands still on her shoulders. "Why?"

Before he answered his eyes darted to Dumbledore and then back to Minerva. "I know about the horcruxes and this was a very close call. If Potter didn't have such dumb luck I fear the outcome would have been disastrous."

"Dumb luck had nothing to do with it Severus," Dumbledore said. His eyes had turned slightly hard and he stood. "Harry may not know or even comprehend what he has done but he has certainly proved to be quite courageous and loyal."

"Of course," Snape replied stiffly.

"But that doesn't mean we will halt in our supervision of him, nor assume that this is the last we will see of Voldemort."

"Must we say that ridiculous name?" Minerva asked scathingly.

"The Tom you knew is gone and his new identity is Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore explained patiently.

"But to say it is lending to his credibility. It's giving him more power." Minerva shot back but her anger was not directed to Dumbledore, clearly she was angry at Tom.

"I realize this but it is easier to distinguish between the two personas he has," Dumbledore said.

"Besides not all of us knew him when he was known as Tom Riddle," Snape sneered. Minerva turned to him and her eyes narrowed.

"What are you implying Severus?"

"I am not implying anything, merely stating that to call him Tom is not going to make Voldemort go away." Snape replied easily.

"Fine, call him whatever you like." Minerva gave in after pausing for a moment.

"Minerva you must understand that whatever we call him it does not take away from the very real threat he poses." Dumbledore said.

"Oh I know too well the threat," Minerva said. "Or need I remind you what he has done to not only me but countless others?"

"That will be unnecessary," Dumbledore returned softly. "What we need to do is figure out where to go next." At this both he and Minerva turned to face Snape.

"There has been no word concerning the Dark Lord from within the Death Eaters. It is as though they are still under the impression that he is gone."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "That does little to assure me but it is nevertheless good news."

"So we continue watching Potter, it seems he is now our direct link to whatever the Dark Lord may be planning." Snape commented and snuck a quick look at Minerva.

"As unfortunate as that is to Harry it is our best course of action right now," she agreed.

Harry could feel Hermione and Ron looking at him, gauging his reaction. He was not overly surprised at the discussion of his involvement with Voldemort but more with the realization that they had kept such close tabs on his actions over the years; that and the fact that McGonagall did know of the horcruxes. When the scene dissolved and the three were standing alone in the darkened room he voiced his surprise.

"I had no idea he would confide in Professor McGonagall," Hermione said.

"I'm not," Ron interjected. "She already knew Voldemort better than most and wouldn't be surprised to find out that he had created them. She obviously didn't know how many or what they were."

"True," Hermione agreed. "And we'll just have to wait and see if Dumbledore told her how many."

Harry sighed and looked down at the rest of the vials still left to be viewed. "I guess we should continue then."

Hermione gave him a sharp look. "Do you not want to?"

"No," he defended. "I just want to find out what really happened to her. And all of these memories are bringing back a lot of my own, and the constant speculating just makes it feel like were grasping at straws."

"I don't like it anymore than you do, however we really don't have any other option. Without these memories we would be completely in the dark." Hermione pointed out and Harry smiled tightly.

"Exactly, which means we still have some left to go through. Hopefully we'll catch a break soon."

"We will," Ron chimed in. "With luck like ours we're bound to find her."

"Now I'm not just worried about where or when we'll find McGonagall," Harry explained and his face set in hard lines as he thought for a moment. "I also want to piece together how much she was actually involved in this war, because what we've seen so far proves that we had no idea how involved she was."

"Is," Hermione pointed out. "I refuse to believe that she is dead. Whoever captured her would not break into her room, put up a good fight, only to drag her away to kill her. No I have a feeling that she was taken for a specific purpose."

"It was Devon," Ron said with conviction. He was absolutely certain of it and the way that the other two looked at him it was apparent they both thought so as well.

"So," Hermione said slowly.

"We finish these," Harry said and pointed to the rest of the memories, "and then we figure out the next step."

Turning back to the cabinet Hermione plucked the next vial out and poured the memory into the swirling Pensieve. Touching it all three were immediately transported to McGonagall's bathroom and she sighed heavily before speaking.

"We did not know at that time how many horcruxes that Tom had made, but we knew that there was not just the one. But we tried our best to live our lives as normally as possible given the circumstances. Severus was right; Harry did seem to bring trouble with him wherever he went. Oh I'm not blaming the boy; but it could not be overlooked. After the Chamber of Secrets incident had blown over we had hoped for at least a few years reprieve before more trouble came calling. Then Sirius Black escaped and the castle was overrun by Dementors," she stopped and shook her head sadly.

"Poor Harry, they hit him hardest. I cannot imagine what he went through every time one of those creatures went too close to him. They certainly affected me but there is no need to get into details on that," she muttered bitterly and then looked off to the side as though remembering what happened next.

"Finding out that Sirius was in fact innocent was perhaps the highlight of that year but it was also so very bittersweet. Finally learning the truth meant nothing to the world if we could not prove it and when Barty Crouch Jr. was…" she faltered for a moment trying to come up with the right words, "when he received the Dementor's kiss it seemed as though all hope left with him. And then came the Triwizard tournament and that in itself caused quite an argument between Albus and I. Letting Harry participate went against everything in me but I ultimately trusted Albus' assessment of the situation and deemed it wise to just support the boy. It did not end well," her voice was heavy with sorrow.

"But the worst was yet to come as we realized that Lord Voldemort had finally managed to return to power, and my worst nightmare came true. Harry's fifth year did not go much better what with the Ministry slandering both he and Albus at every turn; refusing to choose to believe what they were telling them. I could tell that Albus was planning something but he refused to involve me. Again I don't know if he was trying to protect me but there was definite tension between us that year. How could there not be? I was terrified," she admitted softly and her gaze became clouded. "Every morning I would wake, surprised that I was still in my own bed; that Tom had not come in the night to take me. My nerves were further strained under the constant tyranny of Dolores Umbridge. It was everything I could do to keep my cool.

"When Albus was banished from the school he took with him any real security I felt. I even tried to leave with him but he knew…he _knew_ that I was much safer in the castle than on the run. It did not matter to me; I only wanted to be with him. True we were not romantically involved; however he was perhaps the one person whom I could trust completely. The one person I could truly be myself around," she paused and gave a derisive laugh. "You, whoever you are, might be wondering why I do not include Alastor. After his captivity in that horrid trunk for almost a whole school year it was not surprising that he pulled himself away. I essentially lost my friend the day he was put into that trunk. But I've been rambling," she said and faced her image in the mirror with a steely look.

"The next memories chronicle the hectic and ultimately disastrous year leading up to Albus' murder…or death," she added quietly, "For as I said before I am not entirely convinced of Severus' betrayal. Perhaps I am wrong, perhaps it is all an old witch's fervent hope but I refuse to believe that he would ever betray Albus; that he would ever betray me."


	14. Driving Me Under

DRIVING ME UNDER

Harry, Hermione and Ron landed in Dumbledore's office where Minerva was currently arguing with the Headmaster. Dumbledore sat behind his desk and Minerva stood across from him with her hands flat against the surface leaning forward.

"I still do not see why you cannot tell me," she said.

"It is not that I cannot tell you but I will not," Dumbledore returned smoothly and Minerva's eyes flashed.

"So it is alright that you know all of my darkest secrets but when it comes to your own there is no room for anyone."

"Minerva I am startled by how bitter you are over this," he remarked calmly. His continued calm was apparently very upsetting to Minerva and she was fast becoming annoyed.

"I am bitter for many reasons but on this I am way beyond bitter. All of your secret meetings with Harry, your mysterious disappearances, and most of all your obvious mistrust of me makes me feel…unwanted," she finished softly.

Dumbledore stood and walked around the desk and gently put his hands on her arms. He pointedly ignored the sympathetic look she gave his mangled hand. He ran his good hand down her arm until he reached her hand which he clasped tightly. "That is the furthest thing from the truth. I will not tell you because…" he stopped abruptly and his eyes clouded in sorrow.

"You will not tell me because it is not your secret to tell," Minerva sighed, finishing his sentence. "I know but it does not change the fact I feel completely useless when I do not even know the plan."

"Ah and what a very delicate plan it is," he remarked before he could stop himself.

Minerva studied his face intently. "Severus is also becoming more distant and though his duties as spy no doubt play a part, I am sure there is more to it."

"Assuredly," Dumbledore said.

The scene switched and the trio was now standing in the Potions classroom. Snape was hunched over a cauldron; face inches away from the thick liquid sloshing inside. Minerva was behind him with her arms crossed. It was not a defensive pose, more like she was hugging herself. Be it the cold of the dungeons or the topic of discussion it was not hard for the trio to discern that she was deeply disturbed.

"I have told you already Minerva," Snape began and did not bother to turn and face her. "My duties as a spy have affected me deeper than I had thought it would."

"That still doesn't explain the strange happenings," Minerva said. "First Albus comes back from the summer holiday with an obviously cursed hand and then the various attempts on his life. Oh yes, I am able to put two and two together Severus," she said as Snape finally turned to face her with a sharp look. "Something has or will happen but the two of you will not tell me."

"It is for the best," Snape breathed softly.

"For you or me?" She asked just as quietly.

"Does it matter when so much is at stake?"

"Perhaps not but it matters to me," she returned using Snape's own words from years before. It caused Snape to close his eyes but he remained silent. When he opened them he found her staring at him.

"Do not look at me like that," he demanded harshly.

"Like what?"

"Like a wounded animal," he said bluntly.

Minerva bristled and the hurt expression she was sporting disappeared. "Of course I am wounded, have you not seen it yourself?"

"No," he sighed. "I have only entered your mind once and will never do so again."

"Maybe you should," she returned quickly and heatedly. "That way you would know how desperate I am to be included in this. How you expect me to live like this is beyond me."

"No one is denying that this may be hardest on you but we cannot afford to make even the slightest mistake."

There was silence then, the only sound was the bubbling of whatever potion he was brewing. It stretched for several long moments while Minerva fought down her impatience.

"And it would obviously be a mistake to let me know," she commented.

"Perhaps," he agreed simply.

The scene faded but the trio caught the burning look Minerva sent to Snape. Not knowing where exactly they would end up next they were slightly unprepared for the chaotic scene they now entered. It was not hard to determine what was going on, in fact Harry had hoped to never have to relive this night as long as he lived.

The sounds of spells and curses being cast echoed in the corridors as Minerva ran toward the Astronomy Tower, the spot where the fight originated from. She was so distraught that she did not even attempt to send the students back to their dormitories. Instead she was running full tilt for the source of the fighting. It was strange as the three of them each caught a glimpse of each other before Minerva dashed past. It seemed that she was only concerned for one thing and by the desperation in her eyes it could only be for Dumbledore. So she ran and the trio followed as quickly as they could.

"You know," Ron huffed as even his long legs had trouble keeping up with her, "for being in her seventies, the woman sure can run."

Harry only managed a quick nod and Hermione could do nothing but concentrate on keeping her legs going. They reached the stairs leading up to the Astronomy Tower and without breaking stride Minerva sprinted up the steps two at a time. Finally gaining the top step she swept the area with her eyes, turning backward and forward frantically. She slowly walked to the railing and with a terrified look she leaned over and gazed down at the ground. A choked sound came from her throat and a wail of despair left her lips though torn from her very soul. It was heart wrenching to hear and the trio felt tears building. Combining their own feelings of this horrible night with the terrible raw pain they were witnessing from Minerva only increased their grief. She turned from the horrific sight of Dumbledore's broken body, not bothering to wipe away the tears pouring down her face. She raised her shaking hands and buried her face, breaths coming in deep gasps.

"How very sad."

Minerva's head jerked up and her eyes widened in fear. And although they were not part of the memory Harry, Hermione and Ron could not help but feel the same as she did. There on the threshold leading onto the balcony was none other than Voldemort. He was staring at her with a twisted mix between lust and satisfaction and when Minerva fumbled in her robes for her wand he only laughed; it was high and cold, completely devoid of anything but malice.

"Have you enough?" She asked angrily, her fear buried neatly under her one defense.

"Never," he growled and advanced upon her. She backed up out of instinct and her back bumped into the railing. "I will never have enough. I'd have thought you of all people would have realized this."

She did not reply to his taunt, rather she tightened her grip on her wand. His eyes raked her body and she shivered; out of fear, cold, or desperation the trio did not know. Perhaps all three; they would never know for sure.

"The short time I had you was not nearly _enough_ Minerva," her name slipped from his tongue pure as silk and she once more shivered.

"You did not have me, you only thought you did."

He laughed again, the sound bouncing around the balcony in loud echoes. Minerva closed her eyes briefly against the sheer malevolence in the tone that his laughter carried. Opening them she saw him step closer and tried frantically to back up only to hit the railing hard and nearly topple over the edge. Voldemort reached out and grabbed onto her, hauling her into his chest where he wrapped her in a tight embrace. She struggled in vain but he only held onto her that much tighter.

"I have but a few moments before I must leave you," he spoke and his voice was muffled by her hair. Leaning back and holding her at arms length he gave her a once over and said, "Regrettably."

"Why come at all?"

"To warn you," he said and gazed deeply into her eyes. "I will come back for you. Now that you're precious Dumbledore is gone there is no one to protect you from the big bad wolf."

"I am not without my own resources," she shot back but her eyes held a different fear than previously.

He only smiled and caressed her cheek with his pale hand, reaching behind her ear and releasing her long black hair. Gently he ran his hands through the silken strands, his eyes closing in ecstasy. Letting her go abruptly he turned on the spot, apparating away. She reached behind her and clutched onto the railing, chest heaving with sharp pants. It was clear she was very close to hyperventilating but then the sound of distant outcries drew her attention once more to the ground below. The wind was blowing fiercely causing her hair to whip around her face. The trio had not seen her with her hair down since the first year of Snape's employment, thus not realizing that she really had aged quite gracefully. In fact she had hardly changed except for the ever growing anguish in her eyes. Even her hair was devoid of grey.

Minerva took several seconds gazing down at the sight of people gathering around Dumbledore's body and then straightened. Walking to the stairs she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the windows and cringed. Visibly pulling herself together she whispered, "For the children," and marched down the stairs.


	15. Feel It Creeping It

FEEL IT CREEPING IN

"How awful," Hermione commented as they were pulled from the Pensieve.

"How could we have not known?" Harry asked incredulously. "We saw her right after that and all I saw was pain from Dumbledore's death."

"Because she had spent her whole life covering it," Hermione said quietly. "She'd had a lot of practice pulling herself together for those who depend on her."

"Blimey she's good at it," Ron said.

"Too good, that can't be good for one's sanity." Harry muttered.

Hermione gave him a withering look. "I for one don't think she kept it all in, Dumbledore had always been there for her."

"And she just lost him," Ron pointed out. "You'd think she would have fallen apart. But no, she has to always be the strong one."

"Too right," Harry agreed.

"Look we can sit here debating her choices or we can continue on and find out how to help her." Hermione said fiercely. The boys nodded, Ron a little too enthusiastically. Just before touching the surface of the memories Harry leaned close to Hermione.

"I didn't mean to sound insensitive Hermione," he said softly.

Hermione met his gaze and her eyes softened. "I know. I'm sorry if I came off a little too defensively; I just can't help but feel protective of her now."

"Yeah, knowing what we do now I don't blame you."

"Thanks Harry," Hermione said and both turned to find Ron waiting on them. As one they touched the liquid and were taken to the Headmaster's office. Only it wasn't Dumbledore's office anymore, Snape was sitting behind the desk. His elbows were resting on the arms of the chair with his fingers steepled near his chin; he was regarding Minerva with a very scrutinizing look. His features were carefully masked to match Minerva's own closed expression.

"I will need the revisions for the schedules by tomorrow," Snape said and his voice came out harshly demeaning.

Minerva only managed a quick nod before she turned on her heel. She began to walk to the door with obviously measured steps, trying hard not to flee from the room that held such dear memories.

"A moment Minerva," Snape called out. Her shoulders stiffened but she turned to face him with a blank expression. Snape cocked his head to the side and looked at her through narrowed eyes.

"I would like to think you had a greater appreciation for your precarious position."

"And wasn't it you that said I was far more valuable than any other player?" She returned scornfully, the dam which had been holding back her anger and resentment now burst open. "Or was that just another lie in the long line you fed to me?"

Snape's eyes narrowed further into slits and he stood. Without breaking eye contact he walked around the desk, making his way to where Minerva stood with her back straight and head held high; their eyes were warring and it was not a battle that either wanted to lose. He grabbed onto her arms and shook her; she let him but her eyes held complete loathing.

"And do you not know the fine line you are walking?"

Minerva gave a cold laugh. "The only thing I have to fear is your Dark Lord and he has made his intentions very clear. The only fine line I am walking is my own uncertainty of when he will come for me. But you," she paused and her eyes softened slightly as she perused his pinched expression. "You are balancing on the fine line you have created for yourself."

"Do not speak of things you know nothing about," he growled and his grip on her arms tightened painfully. "The only thing I have created is the path for my master to take as he takes over this pathetic world."

"Oh Severus," Minerva sighed. "I may have once believed you but it has been far too long since you have been able to fool me."

He let her go as though burned and stepped back. His chest was heaving and his mouth opened and closed several times before he directed his steps to the desk. He sat in the chair and leveled his gaze on her. She had not moved and the pitying look was still very prevalent in her eyes.

"Dismissed," he ordered curtly, the sneer firmly back in place.

"So this is how we are going to play then?" Minerva mused and still did not move.

"Play?" He questioned viciously, his eyes spitting fire. "You think this is some kind of game?"

"Yes I do, hasn't it always been a game? Between those that think they can conquer the world and those who oppose them. My only hesitation is which team you are on."

Snape stared at her, mouth agape before pulling himself back together. He did not say anything, perhaps too stunned by her admission to retort. So there they stood staring at one another, Minerva's eyes slowly filling with tears.

"Don't cry," Snape said trying to sound scathing but only managing a feeble impersonation.

"I do not know what else to do," she returned quietly. "Other than leave this room and hate you for what you have done. Regardless of why you killed Albus, you still killed him."

The tears did not fall and the trio would never know if she shed them. The scene dissolved and they were now standing in Minerva's personal chambers. The fire was slowly dying out and the room was cast in dark shadows. She was sitting in one of the chairs, holding a tea cup in her hands that looked to be long forgotten. Her eyes were on the fire but it was clear she was far off in another time. A knock sounded shrilly and Minerva jerked to awareness and threw a worried glance at the door. The knock came again and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she set the tea cup on the table. She had on her sleeping robe and tied it more securely before carefully opening the door.

Harry craned his neck trying to see past Minerva's body but could see nothing in the hall. He along with Hermione and Ron shot each other apprehensive looks while Minerva looked on with confusion. Shaking her head she closed the door and locked it with a strong charm. Walking back into the room she shivered and finally took notice of the dying fire. Checking the clock she shook her head and with a wave of her wand banished the tea cup. She pointed her wand at the fire but instead of it going out as she intended it flared up and became a roaring fire.

Prickles of fear raced up Hermione's spine as she realized what was going on. "Someone is in here with her," she said to the other two.

"How do you reckon?" Harry asked as he swept the room with his eyes.

"She's too experienced to misfire a spell like that and then the strange knocking. They must have cast a disillusionment charm."

"Blimey," Ron breathed as he too searched the room for signs of an intruder.

Meanwhile Minerva had been doing the same thing but no one jumped out of the shadows and because the fire was really blazing it would have been difficult for anyone to hide. The room was bathed in the soft glow the fire cast but there were still dark corners. She reached for her wand but barely got a grip on it before a hand appeared out of nowhere and clamped over her mouth. Not even bothering to scream she attempted to turn and defend herself but was stopped as another arm snaked its way around her waist, effectively holding her immobile.

"Hello mother," Devon whispered, his face appearing next to Minerva's ear.

Minerva's eyes widened in shock and her struggles died. She must have realized it was useless to waste energy on escaping when there was no chance.

"Now, I am going to take my hand away. Let's not make any loud noises alright?"

He lifted his hand away but kept his other arm clasped firmly around her middle, causing her to stay very still. It was clear that although she was his mother, his flesh and blood, she wanted nothing more than to get away from him. So instead of giving him the satisfaction of knowing he terrified her she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Devon," she spoke his name barely above a whisper.

"Mother," he returned and his voice was so like Tom's that if the trio had not seen Devon's face they would have sworn it was Voldemort holding Minerva in such a tight embrace. While Minerva battled her anxiety, Devon clearly enjoyed stirring it up. His free hand was running along her arm provocatively and the trio saw his arm tighten around her waist. He placed his head on her shoulder and stood rocking back and forth, humming quietly.

"You know," he began quietly whispering into her ear. "I have waited all my life to hear you sing me a lullaby. Would you do that for me? Would you sing for your son?"

His grip tightened once more and Minerva's breath hitched in her throat. Devon's roaming hand had stopped when he reached her hand and he delicately plucked her wand out of her grasp where he threw it onto the chair she had previously occupied. She watched it land with dazed eyes and then snapped back to the present when Devon began to rock once more.

"Sing for me," he demanded. His voice was no more than a whisper but the sheer amount of dark power it contained caused the trio to shiver.

Minerva took a moment to collect her thoughts and then began to sing softly. Her voice hitched at first but then settled into a soothing rhythm. The trio could hear the sadness in her voice and it was awful to think that a mother would have to wait so long to sing to her child and even then it was under the most extreme condition.

Ron was the first to recognize the lullaby as one that his own mother had sang to him when he was a child. It was a beautiful song but when Minerva sang it the song held much more sadness than there should have been. He looked over and found Hermione with her eyes welling with tears, arms wrapped around herself and eyes glued on Devon and Minerva. Harry was also watching but he had a deeply disturbed look and it wasn't hard to imagine what he was thinking. Ron himself was thinking the same thing.

Devon was Minerva's son but he was acting more like his father. He shuddered at the thought and swung his gaze to find that Devon was gently leading Minerva, still rocking her back and forth, toward her bedroom.

Minerva's eyes began to panic and when she stopped singing Devon painfully tightened his grip. She resumed singing but this time it was laced with a certain amount of fear. They reached the threshold to the bedroom and Devon continued his odd waltz to the bed where he sat down and dragged Minerva down to lie next to him.

Never once stopping, she sang while her eyes followed his every move. After she had gotten into a lying position he laid his head down on her chest and rested there. Not knowing what to do her voice drifted off and silence settled.

"Why don't you love me?"

Minerva's eyes closed at the anguish in his voice.

"Its not that I don't love you, I don't know you," she answered and looked surprised at her own revelation.

"Then I guess I will have to spend more time with you then," he said and looked up into her eyes. "You really are beautiful mum."

She remained quiet and appeared calm until he turned away from her laying his head back down. As soon as he looked away her eyes began to tear up.

"Will you," he began hesitantly. "Will you run your hand through my hair?"

She hesitated but when he stiffened she brought her hand up and gently began to comb his hair with her hands. It was odd watching a grown man beg for his mother's touch but then again, the trio realized, he had never had a real childhood.

Eventually Devon fell asleep, content in his mother's arms. Minerva lay there quite still for a while as she processed what had just happened. Devon grumbled something in his sleep and threw his arm over her stomach and pulled her closer. Her face told of her agony and with that image in their heads the trio was pulled from the Pensieve.

They stood around and once more were too shocked by what they had seen to properly make any comments. After a very long silence, Ron was the first to speak.

"Was it me or did Devon seem…" he faltered not really wanting to voice the word.

"Too interested?" Harry supplied and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I believe the word you're looking for is incestuous. And yes I too thought that. Oh c'mon you two, we're all adults," she said exasperatedly at their squeamish reactions.

"Hermione it's quite a foul thing," Harry pointed out.

"I know," she defended. "But we can't afford to miss anything out of our own inability to call something by its name."

"Alright but can we not say it anymore, we recognize it now lets move one." Ron said.

Hermione nodded, "Agreed. I hate it just as much as you do. Now," she began but stopped when she noticed there was only one vial left.

"Daunting isn't it?" Harry asked. "With only one left I sure hope she left some good clues."

"I'm sure," Hermione said but her heart wasn't in it.

"We're much closer than we were at the beginning," Ron commented.

"Much," Harry said and then plucked the vial out to take a look at it. "May as well get on with it." The other two nodded and he poured the memory in where it swirled quite chaotically.

"Think it's trying to tell us something?" Ron asked.

"Hopefully where she is," Hermione answered softly.

As they landed once again in Professor McGonagall's bathroom they were disheartened to see the dark circles under her eyes. She was looking more and more haggard, more stressed and definitely more haunted.

"As you saw Devon had decided it was time to get to know me. So it was with great trepidation that I began to get to know him as he began to frequent the castle on an alarmingly regular basis. Much to my chagrin it became a routine for him to make me sing him a lullaby," she shivered at the recollection. "It was much more than just a boy looking for a mother's love. As I told Albus before, I could sense a part of Tom in him. Either it was the way he was raised or was born with that sort of predilection is beyond me. What I do know is that whenever he was around me there was no shortage of tension. As much as I want to love my own son I cannot. He is too much like his father. And like his father, he simply gave me the creeps as I believe the saying goes." She stopped and there was a ghost of a smile playing on her lips, and when Harry looked over to Hermione he noticed she was also sporting a small smile.

"Teaching is my saving grace; there is no better medicine than teaching the next generation and seeing their eyes light in wonder at what they can do. I do my best to steer them in the right direction and can't help but wonder if I had been able to get Devon from Tom all those years ago what he might have grown to become. But I digress once again. This year has been nothing short of exhausting. Not only is the war against the Dark Lord heating up but there is also the matter of dealing with Severus on a daily basis. One moment I want to strangle him whereas in the next I want to comfort him. Then there is Devon," she stopped and her lips pursed. "Devon is what scares me the most. He shows up nearly every night with taunts of how Tom will come for me yet he is most possessive of me. There is never anyone else around but if there is one thing I can sense well is possessiveness. Not even Severus knows of Devon, apparently all who did know of him are either dead or sworn to secrecy in fear of death. Tom has kept our son hidden from the world and I'm sure there is an ultimate purpose for that. Perhaps that is what I can sense from him, the dark purpose he will fulfill in this obscene war that Tom is bent on.

"Using Devon as a weapon is no doubt the reason he was so intent on keeping our child. What that purpose is I can only speculate but none of my guesses are any better than yours, whoever you are. No doubt I am far too close to the situation but I cannot determine the true nature of my son. That is the reason I have carefully chosen the memories you have seen so far. Devon will be used as a weapon and I may not be there to tell anyone who or what he truly is. Or what a terrible threat he poses; he is after all the Dark Lord's son. From the many encounters with Devon I have gained one piece of knowledge that may help locate him. Tom never truly abandoned the camp he had in Albania and that is where Devon will be residing if I am missing. I too will most likely be there, held prisoner once more.

"Do not misunderstand me, I am not hoping for a rescue. I am hoping that I may at least help in whatever way I can to defeat Tom and destroy him once and for all. This is the last memory I am pulling for fear that Devon may discover what I have been doing. It is already far too dangerous knowing he may show up at any moment for me to be talking this long. But know this, although Tom is seen at the Malfoy manner it does not mean that is where he will be when I am caught. He will be in Albania along with Devon.

"Above all, you must kill the Dark Lord _and_ my son."


	16. Like A Parasite

LIKE A PARASITE

Minerva opened her eyes slowly, the dull throbbing in her head building to a sharp jabbing pain as the sun hit her full in the face. Groaning she tried to rise but stopped when she heard voices coming closer. She closed her eyes quickly and resumed her original position on the ground, praying that whoever was coming would continue on.

"There is no telling how long we have, but it is imperative that we do not rush. Everything must be perfect, especially our timing."

Minerva fought down her panic as she realized that it was Devon's voice. By the sound of it he was very excited and he was getting closer. Her brain felt fuzzy and the details of her abduction were foggy. She tried to focus her thoughts on that night but it was hard. He must have used some sort of drug to keep her sedated but she could remember clearly the sheer terror she had felt when she found him standing in her bedroom. The way he had taunted her before launching an outright attack, intent on overpowering her so that he could drag her away. Her breathing became more erratic as she remembered the fight and it was not surprising that Devon noticed this as he stopped in front of her.

"Good to see you awake mother," he drawled lazily.

Instead of responding she opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. The pain nearly exploded as once more the sun glared down at her. Devon moved to block it and only then was she able to see his face. He was leering down at her, causing her heart to skip a beat. Still silent she tried once more to raise herself off the ground but the distinctive sound of heavy clinking made her stop. Looking down her eyes widened slightly in alarm. There were manacles around her wrists, big thick chains leading to where they were tethered to two different spikes wedged into the hard ground. She half-heartedly tugged on them but before she even felt the heavy weight of them she knew it was useless. Either they were too dense to break or were magically charmed to stay intact.

Devon gave her a scornful glare, "Even in the face of certainty you try."

"I am a Gryffindor," Minerva pointed out dryly. Expecting anger she was surprised when he threw his head back and laughed. Looking to his companion, a short squat man with a face like a troll, Devon pointed down to her.

"I told you she was feisty."

"Not bad looking either," the man growled his voice gravelly. Minerva could not see his features well, the sun blinding everything but her son's face; which at the man's comment became dark and clouded.

"You will use proper respect when it concerns her," Devon said as he turned to the man menacingly. Obviously the man had the brain of a troll as he did not get the hint.

"Better than calling her a busty wench."

There was no warning as Devon bellowed, "Crucio!"

The man fell to the ground writhing, squealing in pain. Minerva watched on torn between indifference and abhorrence. On one hand this man was obviously of the darker nature but on the other it was her son doing the torturing. Before she could even organize her thoughts the curse was lifted and the man did not stir. Fearing he was dead Minerva unconsciously held her breath.

"He'll survive," Devon practically spat and then turned to face Minerva. "Now, onto business."

"How callous can you be?"

"You would not care for an answer to that," he responded.

"Then you do not know me as well as you think," she said scathingly.

"Please," he drawled as he twirled his wand between his long pale fingers. "Enough of this, I grow tired of our meaningless arguments. Soon you will come to accept many things as once more the Dark Lord will rise."

Somewhere deep inside, Minerva felt a tremor of fear but purposefully squashed it. "And by Dark Lord I assume you are referring to yourself?"

"Not quite," he answered and bent down to her eye-level. "I mean to resurrect my father once more."

"He is dead," Minerva replied flatly. "There is nothing more that can be done for him."

Devon laughed mirthlessly. "Oh ye of little faith. Do you think my father, Lord Voldemort, would ever truly leave this world?"

Minerva cringed but stared at him, eyes searching for the truth hidden behind his madness.

"Have you not figured it out yet? Tsk tsk," he taunted as he stood and began circling her. "You're supposed to be the smart one. Come now, try and think."

"Tom was able to survive only because of the horcruxes he had created," Minerva reasoned out loud, never once taking her eyes from that of her son's. "Once Harry destroyed all of them there was nothing binding his soul, and I use that term loosely, nothing binding him to this world. He is gone and I do believe you are deluding yourself if you think otherwise."

"That would be true if Harry and his insufferable friends had actually destroyed all of the horcruxes."

Minerva gasped when she saw the awful truth in his eyes. "How?"

Devon smiled and it sent shudders through her as she saw his eyes light up sinisterly.

"There is one horcrux left," he answered.

"What is it?" Minerva asked and thought for sure that he would not answer her. So when he did she was simultaneously surprised and horrified.

"Me," he answered proudly. "I am the Dark Lord's last horcrux. Do you not think it is a glorious plan?"

"I think it is despicable," Minerva managed to get out. She was surprised at the strength in her voice; her heart beating rapidly, following the same pattern as the pounding in her head.

"Of course you would say that now."

"And what does that mean?" She asked bitterly. He stepped forward and she backed up out of instinct, the need to be as far away possible overrode any of her pride. Oh yes, it was out of sheer pride that she hadn't yet backed down from the weight of his stare. But in the face of the awful knowledge she was presented with how could she hope to keep her cool? He was the last horcrux.

_Her son was the last horcrux_.

"It means that in time you will come to accept the new order, the new way of life that my father will implement the moment he has rid this world of all the scum."

"I assume you mean muggleborns," Minerva said, throat dry. It all seemed so surreal she felt as though she were floating in the clouds.

"I mean any who oppose us and the ways of old," Devon responded. His eyes had taken on a fanatical gleam as he regarded her. She was still sitting on the ground, manacles securely fastened and there was the loveliest hint of fear in her eyes.

"The ways of old? He's brainwashed you," Minerva cried. "Your whole existence has led to this, sacrificing yourself for his continued existence."

"And what a marvelous sacrifice; there is no better way to end one's life than to give it for such a worthy cause. A noble cause," he finished and knelt next to her, reaching his hand out to stroke her face. She jerked away bringing her hand to shield her face, the manacles clinking loudly in the sudden silence. He reacted violently by grabbing her chin roughly and swatting her hand away.

"He's used you; your whole life has been his means to an end." Her voice was barely a whisper as she stared into his eyes.

"Don't you realize that I know all of this?" He returned. "To be the means with which the Dark Lord will finally win the war and take his rightful place is an honor."

"My son," she sighed, "my flesh and blood, don't you realize that you have so much more to offer than just acting as a vessel? I could have given you so much, a life worth living; a life to be proud of. I fear I have failed you," she said softly and it was her turn to stroke his cheek gently. For the first time he looked unsure but as suddenly as it appeared his certainty returned with a sneer. He grabbed her wrist and she let out a small yelp at the pain.

"Do not waste your empathy on me, rather save it for yourself. For once my father, your husband returns, there will be nowhere for you to run."

He threw her arm away from him forcefully and she went with it, landing in the dry dirt. She watched him walk away through tears and she could feel the dust clinging to the path her tears made down her cheeks. Taking a few moments to calm down she was finally able to view her surroundings. It was all too familiar; the camp she had lived in as Tom's wife was the same as she remembered. The many black tents still flapped in the wind causing one to think they were in the midst of a giant rolling sea of dark shadows. The feeling was suffocating, heightened by the information she had yet to process.

Tom had made their son into his last horcrux which meant that in a short time it was very possible he would be returning to power once more. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, the heavy chains digging into her arms. If only there was a way for her to get away, to warn someone. Albus would know what to do; he always knew what to do. But he was dead, murdered by Severus who it turned out was acting on Albus' orders to do so. But it did not matter now, none of it mattered. The only thing that did matter was preventing the return of Lord Voldemort.

Looking around her immediate vicinity she realized that escape was impossible. She had no wand and was chained to the ground in the middle of a large clearing which was surrounded by the tents. She could see a faint circle drawn around the area she had been dumped. Pulling harder on the chains only reinserted the impossibility of her situation. There was no hope of mounting her own rescue. The only avenue left was the hope that someone had found the hidden room she had created in order to house her memories.

She only prayed that they would be found in time.


	17. As We Dance With The Devil

AS WE DANCE WITH THE DEVIL

Harry woke up feeling more refreshed and energized than he had since the beginning of watching Professor McGonagall's memories. There was now a definite feel of purpose to what they were going to do. The three of them had decided that they would rest and then inform the remaining members of the Order where the professor was being held. Of course they were also supposed to come up with a cover story for who Devon was, though it would be difficult to conceal the fact that he was her son; the resemblance was uncanny. And then there was the fact that she had specifically said not to mount a rescue for her. Then again she hadn't known at the time of pulling her memories that Voldemort would already be defeated thus the only reason for going was to rescue her.

Thinking about a possible cover story he made his way to the common room and still rubbing the sleep from his eyes he stumbled into the room and found Hermione already wide awake. She was talking in hushed whispers to Ron, who like Harry still looked to be asleep. Finding it odd that she was talking so quietly in an otherwise empty room, he walked to stand next to her.

"The only way to conceal the fact that Devon is her son is to outright lie, not to mention it will be an obvious one. But if we tell them that he is her long lost son from years ago and just exclude who his father is we might get away with keeping her secret."

"Sounds like a plan," Harry yawned and jumped when Hermione shrieked in surprise.

"Harry! You startled me, when did you get here?" She asked, hand clutching the front of her shirt.

"Just now," he replied taking the empty spot next to her. Looking over at Ron he asked, "So what do you think? Can we fool your family into believing that?"

Ron nodded slowly and wiped his face with his hand. "It's really the only choice we have. We can't just go blabbing Minerva's secret to everyone. Especially after all she's done to keep it a secret."

"True," Hermione chimed in and checked her watch. "It's still quite early but we should head down to the Great Hall. Eat something and then tell everyone what we know, or at least what we want them to know."

So they headed down to the Hall and sure enough there were not many people eating but they still took their usual spots at the Gryffindor table. Food was already laid out and they ate in silence as each was absorbed in their own thoughts. All three jumped when Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out, calling to them from across the room.

"So there you three are."

"Morning," Hermione said cheerfully and turned to face the Weasley matriarch.

"Glad to see you rested," Mrs. Weasley commented and went to tuck Ron's hair behind his ears and this time he tried to get away from the motherly action. She smiled and it seemed as though everything might be back to normal. That is until she caught the look which passed between the three.

"What have you found then?" She asked shrewdly.

"We know where Professor McGonagall was taken," Hermione started and her voice quavered ever so slightly. This was the beginning of their little white lie, getting past Mrs. Weasley would perhaps be the hardest sell.

Mrs. Weasley's mouth opened in surprise and she looked between the three as if not believing they had actually done it…again.

"Well then, that's excellent," she commented and took a seat next to Harry and looked across the table to where Ron and Hermione sat looking apprehensive. "Where is she? And do you know who took her?"

"We know where she is, but we're still not entirely sure who took her or for what." Harry took the initiative and answered. "Why don't we get all the others together and we'll tell you what we know then?"

"Right you are," Mrs. Weasley responded enthusiastically. "No point in repeating yourself more than necessary."

"Could we maybe get them all now?" Hermione questioned. "Too much time has already passed and we're afraid we don't have any left. It's imperative we leave as soon as possible."

"Of course, of course," Mrs. Weasley said even as she stood and began walking out of the Hall. "I will go and alert the others," she called over her shoulder. The trio exchanged looks of extreme apprehension at the daunting task ahead.

"It's not like we haven't faced worse," Ron commented suddenly. Harry and Hermione both nodded and they settled into silence once more. Several minutes passed and as one turned to face the doors as they heard footsteps. Mrs. Weasley walked back in and beckoned them over silently.

"We've decided to meet in a more secure room," she said as the trio approached her.

"Excellent idea," Harry agreed as they entered the corridor. He looked over in time to see Ron reach for Hermione's hand, grasping it and squeezing gently. It was reassuring to Harry and he wanted nothing more than to hold Ginny's hand. As soon as the thought entered his mind he felt someone's hand slip into his own and he turned to find Ginny smiling shyly at him. He smiled back and this time it reached his eyes and hand in hand they walked to Professor McGonagall's classroom where they were met by the remaining members of the Order still present at the castle.

There were obvious holes amongst those gathered, the weight of their absences felt by everyone present. Among those present were of course the Weasley's, the only one missing was of course Fred; his absence among one of the more prominent. Dumbledore was gone but the pain of his absence was now replaced with acceptance. Seated next to Charlie Weasley was Kingsley Shacklebolt and Harry had a moment of surprise.

"Kingsley I thought you were acting as temporary Minister," Harry pronounced.

"I came as soon as I could when I heard of Minerva's disappearance." Kingsley replied calmly, his deep voice lending a certain air of comfort. "I'm sure the Wizarding community can do without me for a few days."

"Brilliant," Ron said genuinely and took his seat next to Hermione. She had sat next to Mrs. Weasley and looked around those gathered. The entire Weasley family was there, Kingsley, Harry and herself rounding off the group. It was a daunting task ahead of them; trying to cover up Minerva's secret. How she had been able to keep it all these years was a testament to her dedication…or desperation.

Clearing her throat Hermione began, "To start off we would like to first thank everyone here for their support and willingness to help us."

"No need," Kingsley spoke up. "It is not a matter of principle but of personal interest. Minerva has become a dear friend for many, if not all, of us."

"Here, here," George said and for the first time since Fred's death he was starting to look more alive. Perhaps the thought of action was good for him.

"That's good to know," Harry chimed in. "Because what we're going to be asking of you is most certainly a dangerous task."

"Enough of this," Percy spoke up. "Where is she?"

"Albania," Ron answered when Harry and Hermione fell quiet and exchanged worried looks.

"Why Albania?" Ginny asked. Out of everyone she was the one who knew least about Professor McGonagall.

"That is where Lord Voldemort first set up camp," Kingsley answered. "It makes sense that whoever took her would take her there," he looked over to Harry who nodded. "Do you know who took her?"

"Not exactly," Hermione said her words slow.

"Not exactly? What does that mean?" Mrs. Weasley asked softly.

"It's very complicated," Ron said.

"Excuse me for sounding a bit insensitive, but don't you think we have a right to know what we are about to face?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Of course!" Hermione agreed, her face stricken. "If we could tell you we would, it's just not our secret to tell."

As soon as the words left her she clamped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes grew wide and everyone stared at her.

"Secret?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her voice taking on a steely edge. "What exactly is going on?"

"Will you excuse us for a moment," Harry said and stood. He motioned for Hermione and Ron to follow him. Once in the corridor he turned to face Hermione.

"I'm so sorry, it just came out," she explained weakly.

"No it's fine," Harry said. "In fact ever since I walked into the room I've been thinking it might be a good idea to tell them exactly what's going on."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, hand hovering near her mouth.

"Absolutely."

"I agree with Harry," Ron said. "We've spent so much time keeping our own secrets and doing things alone, it might be nice to have people to share it with. I would trust my life with any one of them."

"What about Professor McGonagall's?" Hermione questioned hesitantly. Her eyes were flicking between Harry and Ron.

"This is all about her life," Harry exclaimed. "Don't you see, by keeping the secret to ourselves we risk the chance that we might have missed something and we walk into something we're unprepared for."

Hermione chewed her lip in thought. "It's not that I don't trust them, I just feel as though we would be betraying McGonagall with what she left us."

"How do you know that she left the memories just for us?" Ron asked. "Anyone could have found those memories, including Devon."

"Good point," Hermione agreed. "I'm all aboard if you are."

Harry felt the tiniest hint of unease but shook it off. "I am."

"Me too," Ron joined in and they walked back into the room. They found everyone exactly as they had left them and by the stifling silence they knew that it had remained silent even after they had left the room.

"Sorry," Harry said and resumed his seat next to Ginny. "We've decided that we will tell you what we know, everything we know."

The three began to explain what they had seen in the memories, Hermione starting it off seeing as how she had discovered them in the first place. Taking turns they slowly began to lay out the life and secrets that Minerva had been hiding. As they got further into the story the faces around the table began to show shock and disbelief. Kingsley's face began to get stony when it came time to tell of Tom's deceitful way of getting Minerva to marry him.

"Most likely used the imperious curse," he muttered darkly.

"No I don't think so," Hermione explained patiently. "Minerva herself described the whole thing and it didn't sound as though he used the imperious on her."

"No," Kingsley returned quickly. "I meant he used the imperious on the clergyman. I'd bet a years worth of wages he had him killed after it was done."

"Oh," Hermione's mouth opened in surprise.

"Hadn't thought of that," Ron said. "There was so much else we had to concentrate on."

"Of course dear," Mrs. Weasley offered gently and turned to Hermione. "Please go on."

So Hermione began again, trying her best to include the most important information while also keeping it simple. Getting through the rest of the story with relatively few interruptions the group was left in a state of extreme shock. It was silent until Mr. Weasley cleared his throat.

"Perhaps after we've had time to digest all of this we might begin speculating on the details. However I do believe that there will be time enough for that later. By the way you've described Devon there's not much time left."

"Off to Albania then," Charlie Weasley spoke up and looked around for agreement.

"Yes," Kingsley spoke, his voice deeper than usual due to the overwhelming information he had just received.

"Please understand that we only told you because we trust each and every one here." Hermione said.

"And we feel honored," Bill spoke with genuine appreciation.

"We won't let you down," Ginny spoke up and was joined by the others in their support.

The trio could feel the energy in the room lift when they began to plan their next step. It was nice to have the weight of it all lifted somewhat by the support of the group. Not to mention everyone now had a clear purpose: find and rescue Minerva McGonagall.


	18. This Is How It's Gonna End

THIS IS HOW IT'S GONNA END

Through a foggy haze Minerva could feel the tug and pull as hands began touching and groping, their rough handling causing pain to shoot across her skin even through the layer of robes she was wearing. There were too many hands for it just to be one person. Forcing her eyes to snap open she found she was surrounded by a group of people all dressed in black robes. Having fallen asleep sometime after Devon had left her it was now dark out, night descending sinisterly on the camp. The moon was shining brightly, shedding its full light down on the crowd below. It threw some illumination on her situation but not enough. She twisted her neck around and took in those gathered around her. They were the ones touching her, but not just touching; manhandling her. She could see their faces but it was a blur of features, too many of them to take any real notice of any individual and discern the distinguishing characteristics that she was normally adept at remembering

"Get away," she forced past her dry throat, the words coming out as a croak. Trying again she finally managed a somewhat stronger, "Stop."

They ignored her and continued their strange ministrations. Her hair came loose causing several to take notice and soon they ran their dirty fingers through the long black tresses, pain erupting in her scalp when more than one caught on a tangle. Some began to make their way down and caressed her face, her throat, and one bold enough went so far as to stroke just above the gentle swell of her breast. She tried to fight but there were simply too many of them. Focusing her attention on the whole of her body she could feel more hands running along her legs and extending down to her bare feet. The clinking of manacles was barely audible above the blood rushing in her head and she suddenly felt them fall away from her sore wrists.

There was no reprieve when her robes were suddenly torn from her body and she gave a strangled sob as she not only felt but heard the sinister ripping of the seams. She lay there underneath them in only the light nightgown she had been wearing when Devon had abducted her. The whole lot of them stopped for a moment simply staring down at her with the moonlight acting as a spotlight. In their eyes was something close to awe before they once more converged on her. The rough handling of before was nothing to the way they were petting and caressing her now. There would be bruises; even now she could make out the faint outline where some were already forming.

The moon was blocked by their bodies, making it that much harder to discern whose hand belonged to which body. She felt a momentary sense of disconnection; how was this happening? And where was Devon? Surely he would put a stop to this as he was so possessive of her. Managing to calm herself somewhat she tried in vain to get away from the incessant stroking but to no avail. It was hopeless to even imagine getting away but she wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. So she continued struggling even when they lifted her off the ground raising her above their heads.

She could now see the inky black of the sky dotted with millions of stars. The moon seemed to be staring down at her, mocking her for her futile attempts to get free. The hands which were caressing her before were now digging into her back as they supported her. She could feel them along the back of her legs as well while a few were holding her arms and ankles effectively cutting off any chance, however slim, that she could break free. She had seen this kind of devotion before and the thought caused her to shudder.

They began walking and she was carried along with them. Making their way quickly out of the open area where she had been dumped they took her further into the maze of tents and make shift streets. Minerva could not help but be bombarded with memories of long ago. These were not just the memories she had pulled, no these were too grotesque and painful to even think about revealing to any other living soul. Forcefully pulling herself back to the present she saw the snakes which still littered the ground, worshipped as though gods. Treading carefully around them were dirty and unsavory wizards and witches selling their wares; all dark beyond measure. Then suddenly out of the crowd lining the narrow streets ran a woman with long, scraggly silver hair.

Throwing her arms out to Minerva she cried, "My Queen!"

Minerva was already overwhelmed and she cringed away from the crazed eyes of the strange woman.

"Do you not remember me? You must!"

Minerva shook her head jerkily, not intent on answering the woman but out of sheer disbelief. How was she supposed to recognize anyone? Didn't they realize what they were doing and that she wanted no part of it? The woman continued to shout desperate and pleading questions as she trailed the crowd carrying Minerva. A few short moments later they emerged into another small clearing right in the center of the camp.

"That's quite enough," a voice rang out above the woman's incessant questions.

The woman shrank back as though hit, melting into the large crowd now gathered to witness whatever was going to happen. Minerva could not help but feel she was to be the honored guest.

"Mother," Devon spoke gently and Minerva craned her neck in order to see him. He was sitting in a massive chair made of black marble. It gleamed in the moonlight only adding to his already menacing presence. Her keen sense of memory told her it was the throne that Tom had fastened when he first started to collect his army and it pained her to see her son sitting there. Not only was he sitting there but he also had the same maniacal expression clouding his eyes that Tom had assumed whenever he sat in his 'throne'.

"Set her down," he ordered and when they moved too quickly for his liking he scoffed. "Gently, you have no idea how precious she is."

Her knees hit the ground first and she almost crumpled to the ground when she was finally released. She flung her hands out and caught herself, the pebbles on the hard dirt digging into the soft flesh. Shakily she lifted her head and stared into her son's eyes, so like her own yet infinitely darker. Breaking eye contact she took a quick look around the area and recognized the massive tent that she had shared with Tom as the one directly behind Devon. Beside that stood a slightly smaller tent which she could only assume was Devon's. The rest of the tents were small and lined up neatly in a circle which surrounded the two tents, most likely acting as a first line defense in case of a direct attack. That or Tom just liked to be in the center; both fair conclusions considering the type of person he was.

"Devon, please don't do this." Minerva pleaded and her voice came out husky and dry.

He barked out a laugh and then centered his gaze on her. "I haven't even explained what's going to happen."

"You don't have to, I've seen enough dark magic to know what you're planning."

"Have you?" He questioned harshly, his demeanor changing rapidly as he gracefully stood and walked over to her. "Do you really know the enormity of what I am going to do? What _we_ are going to do?" He whispered in her ear, bending over to see eye-to-eye with her.

"I will not be a part of this," she grated out. Clenching her fists she could feel blood from where her skin had broken mixing with the cold sweat which coated her palms. Devon was not lying when he told her of the enormity of this event; every fiber of her being was alert to the tension in the atmosphere.

"You are a part of it, always have been."

"Not willingly," she shot back and he grabbed her wrist and hauled her to her feet.

"Willing or not it makes no difference," he returned coldly. Turning to the crowd he threw their entwined hands into the air and cried, "Tonight marks the beginning of a new era."

The crowd erupted in cheers and clapping, and Minerva could hear the faint thumping of drums. She looked over the massive following and it seemed to be gyrating and moving to a dark and forbidden song. The sound was reaching a crescendo when Devon looked down at her piercing her with such an intense look that she was unable to break it. Without warning her mind exploded and she could do nothing as he plumaged the most inner corners of her psyche. Gaining some strength she forcefully pushed him from her mind. She managed to break free from his grasp as he took several steps back from the sheer force she had used.

"You're going to have to do better than that," she breathed.

Devon stood breathing deeply as he recovered from the shock of having been mentally ripped from her mind. He ran a shaky hand over his face and when next he leveled his gaze on hers she could see Tom so clearly. His eyes had all but turned deep scarlet and for the first time she was terrified of what he would do. She knew he had a plan, a plan carefully mapped out by Tom but if nothing else she knew the temper that ran through his blood; the temper inherited from his father.

"I will," he answered her threateningly. "Enough of this," he yelled and the crowd died down, the beating of the drum still lingering in the air.

"We waste no more time, let it be done."

"No!" Minerva shouted desperately when suddenly two burly men clamped their arms around hers and dragged her toward the enormous cauldron which had magically appeared next to the marble throne.

"Lord Voldemort will rise again!" Devon proclaimed and the crowd knew no limits as curses and spells flew into the night sky as once more they declared their elation. They were jubilant and unruly, the only one who could really control them was Tom. Clearly the thought of having their Lord once more among them was enough to send them into an orgy of delight. Some were writhing on the ground in ecstacy while most danced around with wild abandon.

"All hail Lord Voldemort!"

Following this rather loud shriek were equally exuberant declarations of love and undying loyalty. Minerva felt her stomach knot and she feared she might be sick. The bile rose in her throat and she fought it down with extreme determination. She had been through some horrible things but this simply was insurmountable. There was no foreseeable help coming and she was surrounded by Lord Voldemort's most trusted, most loyal followers.

"Devon please don't do this, you're better than this." She pleaded desperately as he disrobed and turned to face her. He felt no shame as he stood before her naked, cocking his head to the side and regarding her with a mixture between love and pity.

"I have to do this; it's what I was born to do."

"You were born to be my son not just his," she argued back. Her words were strangled in emotion, tears pouring down her face openly. She was still held between the two men but she still fought to break loose and run to her child.

"It's too late for that now," he returned with a sad smile. "Please understand mother, I _want_ to do this."

"You don't know what you want; you've never been given a choice."

"There is no choice," he explained and turned back to the cauldron, watching the boiling potion for a moment before focusing back on her. "There is only honor in what I do."

"No!" Minerva shrieked as he stepped into the water. The crowd renewed their screams and chants of devotion, blocking out the words that Devon was saying as he immersed himself completely. Fighting wildly against the iron grip of her guard she managed to get one arm free and turned to the other violently. She began to claw at the man's eyes, intent on causing as much harm as she could. The other guard managed to grab onto her arm and he gently but firmly held her in place. Still fighting she vaguely recognized the sudden hush settling on the camp. Turning back to the cauldron fearing what she would find Minerva's knees gave way when Lord Voldemort emerged from the cauldron. For a moment she thought perhaps something had gone wrong and Devon had been unable to perform the ritual. This was not the Voldemort that had returned three years ago.


	19. What Have I Become?

WHAT HAVE I BECOME?

Minerva's eyes seemed to play tricks on her as she watched the man step out of the cauldron. He looked around the area and breathed deeply. While scanning the crowd he rolled his shoulder blades and stretched his arms out, getting used to the feel of them before he slowly turned to face Minerva. She gasped when the red eyes bored into hers so intensely. There was no doubt that this was Tom.

Lord Voldemort had once again risen but this time he looked human. There was no trace of the snake left in him as he once more looked the man he had been all those years ago. He had the same jaw line, the same lips, and even had the same hair. The reason she had doubted in the first place must be the fact that he looked so like Devon. The transformation must have only been enhanced when using his own flesh and blood, the similarities between father and son remaining. His long fingers clenched and unclenched, his nude body moving gracefully as he stepped further from the cauldron. Someone stepped out of the crowd holding a long black robe which Tom wordlessly ordered to be draped on him. Oh yes, there was no doubt this was Lord Voldemort, the power he exuded could only come from him.

"Your master has returned," he said throwing his arms in the air dramatically. The silent crowd erupted into one long shout of joy, no longer _as_ unruly as they were before. While his followers celebrated and threw up their arms in excitement he looked once more to Minerva.

Struggling against the two guards' hold on her arms became desperate as he walked toward her purposefully. His eyes traveled her body and then landed on her face just as he came within arms reach. He gave a slight nod to the two holding her and she was set free. Knowing it was useless to run she held her ground returning his stare with forced calm.

"Minerva," he spoke softly. It was a wonder she could hear anything at all above the ear splitting noise of the crowd but she could hear her name being whispered. She was always able to hear him above all else, would always be able to.

"You bastard," she ground out through clenched teeth. "You had him sacrifice himself for you."

"I do believe we should take this conversation somewhere more private."

"You can take it back to hell with you," she returned heatedly.

"Not without you," he said and a predatory smile appeared on his lips. "Perhaps we should let them celebrate while we discuss our future."

She was not able to respond before he proceeded to drag her by the arm toward his tent. Passing before the crowd the noise escalated when they saw her being led by him. Catcalls and other various taunts were thrown their way but Tom ignored them while Minerva inwardly cringed. Reaching the relatively quiet entrance of the tent he spun her around to face him. She now had an unparalleled view of his face, his new yet familiar face. Being so close she was able to see that it was not exactly as she remembered but Tom was still in there judging by the look on his face.

"You thought I would be defeated by Potter didn't you?"

"It was my greatest hope," Minerva answered truthfully.

"It was your greatest mistake," he responded angrily. "To think that a mere boy could topple the empire I have worked my entire life to build is laughable. As is your continued hope," he spoke quietly yet the words reverberated within her head.

"Hope is all I've ever really had," Minerva pointed out.

"Then I shall give you something far better. I will give you certainty."

"I don't want anything you have to offer. It only leads to destruction and death."

"That's where you're wrong," he argued and then pulled her through the flaps leading into the main area of the tent. This further blocked the noise of the crowd and they could barely be heard past the heavy canvas.

"How?" She questioned and went on, "How am I so wrong on that? What have you done that has not led to death and chaos?"

"I thought you said 'destruction'," he pointed out arrogantly. He let go of her arm and walked to the fireplace, lighting it with the wand he had pulled from his robes.

"Now is not the time to be pedantic Tom," she said with a shake of her head. "You've murdered our son."

"Now he's 'our' son?" He turned to her with a look of extreme anger, his wand held threateningly in his hand. "As I recall you left and didn't so much as look back."

"I tried coming back," she defended and then snapped her mouth shut.

"What do you mean you tried coming back?" He snarled and walked to her, stopping only a breath away. "I can't imagine that the great Minerva McGonagall would ever fail at anything, so why should I believe that you would fail at returning to your only son?"

"After he was born and Alastor rescued me," she ignored the huffing sound he made and went on, "I tried to apparate back. I was going to but had no way of knowing where I had been. Would it have made a difference? Would you have not used him as a horcrux if I had come back?"

"Are you really prepared for the answer to that?" He questioned back. "If I say yes then you can stop blaming yourself for what he has done, but if I say no your guilt will be assuaged."

"I know the answer," she said simply.

"Then why ask it at all? Do you enjoy dredging up the past?"

"Of course not."

"Enough," he said harshly and stepped back. Once again his eyes swept her from head to toe taking in her appearance. "Minerva it has been far too long since I was able to see you."

He barely flicked his wand and suddenly her nightgown disappeared leaving her naked to his eyes. Out of instinct she tried covering herself but he was quick to grab and pull her arms away. She endured his gaze with gritted teeth, righteous anger helping her to keep her head up.

"This won't do, I can't have my bride looking so dirty and unkempt."

She flinched when he raised his wand and an amused glint entered his eyes at her reaction. He swept his wand in an arch and her body was instantly purged of all dirt leaving her skin to glow softly in the lamplight. He conjured a robe and draped it over her delicately and stood back to admire his work.

"Of course it never took much to make you beautiful," he muttered and stepped closer once more.

"Beauty only matched by your lovely lies."

He threw his head back and roared with laughter. It was not the high cold voice that she had grown accustomed to with his other body but it still sent chills up her spine. Her hands flew to her chest where she gathered the material and clutched onto it. This was entirely surreal; he wasn't supposed to be alive. None of this was supposed to be happening and yet there he stood looking more alive than she'd seen him since the birth of their son.

"Now," he exclaimed clapping his hands together. "Onto business, the pleasantries can wait till later."

"I have no business with you," Minerva stated flatly. "Unless you would like to volunteer to kill yourself for me."

Again he laughed and then took her in a bone crushing embrace, his mouth nearly touching her ear. "Your wit has always fascinated me my dear. But I'm wounded, are my new looks not to your liking?"

"My attraction to you is not in question," she retorted and pushed him back several steps.

"That's right," he agreed. "As I recall you could hardly ever get enough of me."

"I couldn't get enough of the man I thought you were."

"I am the man I always was, you just chose to turn a blind eye to what was in front of you."

"I chose wrongly," she admitted.

"Regardless," his hand brushing the issue away, "we still have business to see to. There will be a full moon tomorrow and that is when I shall once again power."

"Symbolism has always played a huge part in your plans," Minerva commented dryly.

"But of course," he responded lightly. "What are we if not attracted to the lore of our own ancestry and traditions?"

"Stop playing games with me Tom," she said tiredly. "What do you plan to do tomorrow night?"

"I plan to use what little surprise we have in my return to fire an all out assault on the remaining members of the resistance. After all, I've only been 'dead' for a few days. How much disassembly could there be?"

"More than you know," Minerva answered steadily. "Please Tom for once listen to me. Stop this, stop all of this. The murdering, the deception, the corruption; there has to be an end."

"The end will come once I finally take my place as master of all. You have never understood that, even with your extraordinary mind."

"I understood all right," she argued. "I simply did not agree."

"You always were a true fan of subtlety."

"I'm a fan of the truth."

"Fine, you want the truth," he snarled suddenly and grabbed her arm. Hauling her across the tent he threw open the flaps and dragged her out into the open. The crowd had really lost it by now. Robes had been shed, skin glistening beneath the silvery light of the moon. The bodies seemed to be slithering in and out of the shadows created by the massive bon fires now scattered across the enclosure; the dance as lewd as the abundant nakedness. Looking closer Minerva realized that several of the groups were involved in a very extravagant orgy. The sounds of the beating drums could hardly cover the loud moans and screams of delight emanating from the occupants. It was nothing she hadn't seen before and she viewed the activities with jaded eyes. But when she looked back and found Tom staring at her, eyes gleaming in the moonlight with unfathomable evil, she felt her stomach clench in terror. She suddenly felt more terrified than she ever had in her life.

She broke free of his grasp and stumbled back a few paces before turning and making a mad dash through the crowd. Fleeing as fast as she could she could not hope to outrun his hideous laughter. It rang through her mind, pounding a horrible tattoo upon her memory; one that she doubted she would ever forget. The crowd recognized her but made no move to stop her and if she were in the right frame of mind she would have seen the warning signs. They did nothing more than move out of her blind haste to be as far from Tom and his twisted ideals as she could.

Leaving the vast majority of the crowd behind she finally broke free of the all encompassing noise only to come face to face with the edge of the camp. Her freedom was so close but who was she kidding? She would never truly be free of him. She slowed her steps and eventually came to a halt staring at the trees some twenty yards away. Taking several deep breaths she was able to calm her rapidly beating heart and savor the night air. The wind blew softly, her hair moving gently to the rhythm. It was almost easy to imagine she was on the Hogwarts grounds, celebrating the defeat of Lord Voldemort with all the other survivors. Tears began to gather in her eyes as the full reality of his return took root in her mind.

"We could have been so happy," Tom spoke quietly from behind her. He must have followed her departure and was obviously approaching her as one would a skittish doe. She didn't turn to acknowledge him but kept her gaze on the trees.

"Yes," she answered simply and honestly.

"It's not too late."

"It was too late the moment you stole my heart."

"Minerva," he whispered and she could feel him take a step forward and in turn she stepped ahead.

"I'm tired Tom," she admitted and wrapped her arms around her stomach.

"Then stop fighting me," he said and she could hear the tension in his voice.

"I will never stop fighting and that is what makes me so tired." Finally turning to face him she was met with a deep look of consternation.

"I have done everything in my power to make you happy," he argued softly. Brushing aside the warning bells going off in her head, Minerva walked over to him and gently laid her palm against his cheek.

"I know."

He smiled slowly and reached up to grasp her hand in his own, keeping her hand pressed against his cheek.

"Let go Minerva, let go and let me help you to be happy."

"We both know that isn't going to happen," Minerva said sadly. "Why is it that after all these years I still have the terrible urge to believe in you?"

"We may never know," he said simply. "But what is for certain is that I will never leave you again. You cause too much trouble on your own."

"Hopefully it is enough," she admitted.


	20. Pick The Pieces Up

PICK THE PIECES UP

From their vantage point, Harry, Ron and Mrs. Weasley could see the camp's celebrations. It was too far away to see the details but something big must have happened to cause such uproar of cheers and yelling. They had watched as bright jets of light flew into the sky; curses fired in excitement and victory. Drums could then be heard, beating out a dark rhythm that sent shivers up their spines, skin prickling in dread. The rest of the group were also scattered around the perimeter of the camp in various groups of three or four. Harry had wanted nothing more than to be grouped with Ginny but it had been squelched immediately by the thought of his own distraction.

The three of them had been scouting out the camp and the inhabitants since early that morning, gathering what information they could before launching the rescue. Several days had already passed since the Trio had started watching the memories but they had wasted no time in making their way to Albania. The more experienced adults were able to apparate the rest directly to where the camp was located. Kingsley had immediately taken charge, giving instructions and generally being a comfort with his calm demeanor firmly in place.

So Harry and his group sat patiently and took notes of everything they witnessed in order to give a detailed report at their next designated meeting. It was quiet up until a few hours earlier when all the commotion started. It had died down momentarily to an eerie silence and then exploded once more. This bout of celebration was still going on half an hour later when suddenly Ron straightened and squinted, looking hard toward a spot near the edge of the camp.

"Is that Minerva?" His voice was filled with both disbelief and hope. Mrs. Weasley and Harry turned to find that it was indeed Minerva and she was running full tilt for the edge of the camp. All three felt a burst of pride for their former professor but it was shattered when her steps visibly slowed and eventually she stopped completely. With dumbfounded expressions all three watched, wondering if perhaps she had hit some sort of barrier.

"Is that…" Ron began asking but trailed off.

"Devon," Harry finished darkly. "It looks like him."

"Her son?" Mrs. Weasley asked and turned back to watch Minerva interacting with the man. "He's not acting very son-like," she pointed out with a shrewd eye.

Before anymore was said they noticed Minerva stepping closer to the man and her hand landing near his face. It was dark and the only light they could see by was shed from the moon making the actions blurry and hard to decipher. All seemed calm and then suddenly the man's hand struck out and slapped her across the face. If not for the drums and sounds of celebration they would have been able to hear the resounding crack. Minerva stumbled back but was caught around the waist and once more pressed against the man's body. Though they could not hear the words spoken it was not hard to discern the meaning behind them. Minerva was then dragged back into the camp, her form swallowed by the deep shadows cast by the tents.

"So what do we do now?" Harry asked quietly after a moment of stunned silence.

"We report back to the others," Mrs. Weasley answered firmly and all three stood, walking toward the designated meeting spot. Before they even reached it they heard hushed voices, urgently talking in rapid succession.

"I don't want it to be true anymore than you do but please hear me out."

It was Hermione's voice and she was talking so fast that even Ron had trouble understanding her. Then there was Kingsley's deep calm voice, so much steadier than Hermione's.

"It's not that I don't trust you or believe you," he began diplomatically, "but it is hard to fathom let alone take in."

"What is?" Harry asked as they stepped into the soft light emanating from a jar held in Ginny's hands. She looked up and her face flushed slightly from excitement when she recognized Harry. Both Hermione and Kingsley sighed in unison. Ginny seemed unable to meet Harry's eyes so he looked back and forth at Kingsley and Hermione.

"There may be a possibility that we missed a horcrux," Hermione finally spoke. Her voice was confident but very quiet as though she were admitting a deep dark secret which needed to be said.

"What?" Harry asked as his mind went into overdrive.

"Ms. Granger seems to think that Devon is the last horcrux." Kingsley explained, cutting right to the point. "And as I was trying to explain, its not that I do not believe her," here he gave her a very soft look and went on, "I don't _want_ to."

"Oh," Harry managed.

"What have we missed?" Mr. Weasley asked as he stepped from the shadows and into the soft light. Behind him followed Fred, Charlie and Bill. Now the whole group was back together, ready to plan the next step. If it weren't for Hermione's suggestion of a remaining horcrux the rescue would have seemed possible. But now, in lieu of her rather outlandish theory it now got a whole lot more complicated.

"Devon may be the last horcrux," Ron said.

"Way to be succinct," Percy commented flatly.

Bill turned to Kingsley and asked, "Are we sure about that?"

"There's no way to be sure," Hermione quickly threw in. "It's something that's been bothering me since witnessing Voldemort's unusual attachment to the idea of a child. Why else would the darkest wizard to date be so thrilled at having to tie himself to another human being?"

"Now don't take this the wrong way Hermione," Mrs. Weasley began gently but kept her eyes firmly on the younger woman's anxious face. "But you've never had your own children. The moment you do you will realize just how life changing it can be."

"I know," Hermione said chewed her bottom lip. "So please forgive me but it makes no difference when talking about Voldemort."

"So he planned the whole time to have a kid so he could make it into a horcrux?" Ron asked and looked around the group. Charlie sat stiffly though his expression was one of deep thought.

"It would make sense," he said slowly and everyone looked at him. "He did go through an awful lot of trouble to keep the child's existence a secret."

"True," Kingsley agreed. "But what of Minerva? He has not once deviated from his intentions toward her."

"He saw her as his, a possession that no one else could have." Hermione explained. "Look I don't want to believe it anymore than you but we have to face the very real possibility that Devon may be the last horcrux."

"I believe you," Ginny spoke up firmly.

"As do I," Mr. Weasley added and then looked around the circle of people gathered. "But it makes no difference; we still have to get Minerva out of there before something happens to her."

"After that," Bill spoke up but was interrupted by Fred.

"We kill Devon."

The group fell silent then, all lost in their thoughts about what lay ahead for them. Eventually Kingsley began to speak and piece by piece they formed their plan. One thing was for sure: they had the element of surprise. No one even knew that they were aware of the camp, let alone of Devon's existence. So they paired off in groups once more with the intent of going into the camp under cover of darkness picking off as many people as they could before they were discovered. It was a very militia like plan and in the face of the overwhelming numbers they were facing it was the best choice.

Much to their surprise the plan worked, better than they could have hoped. The witches and wizards they came across were too busy celebrating to notice their presence until it was too late. Once knocked out they would tie them up with magically reinforced rope. If by some miracle they were able to rescue Minerva and thwart whatever Devon was planning they would return and gather the remaining forces of his army. And by an even longer stretch they could once and for all topple the empire that Voldemort had created.

Slowly and stealthily the group made its way from the edge of camp up through to where the main celebration was being held. They too witnessed what Minerva had seen earlier in the evening, only now the celebrating had gained more momentum. It was chaos at its finest, nearly everyone was naked; clothes shed long ago by the looks of it. Their bodies were shining malevolently in the moonlight, slithering amongst one another in a dark and forbidden dance. Every member of the group had now made it to the center of the camp and was walking freely among the inhabitants. It was as though they were not there. No one paid them any mind so they began their attack once more. This time however they were slightly less careful seeing as how they met no resistance.

It was all too easy.

Suddenly there came an unearthly roar from the entrance to the tent. Harry's vision blurred as his scar burst in pain sending him to his knees. He managed to keep from crying out but Ginny saw him go down and rushed to his side. Through the fog of pain he tried to focus on what was happening.

"You!"

Without seeing Harry knew that the shout was directed at him. He swiveled his head around and barely made out a figure walking toward him. Behind that figure he could barely discern another trailing as though being dragged. The pain was so familiar but he didn't want to believe what it meant. Perhaps Devon evoked the same kind of reaction in his scar as Voldemort. Many things whirled through his head but the last thing he wanted to believe was that it _was_ Voldemort. Now that Hermione had suggested it, combined with the throbbing pain of his scar, the thought had managed to capture his mind: Voldemort might have returned.

The crowd which had been celebrating only moments before had gone silent, their exuberance halted in its tracks. Every eye was on the man walking to Harry, no one moved and no one raised their wands. It was as though the man had them all in a trance unable to break the hypnotic spell he seemed to have put them under.

"So you thought you could defeat me…again."

"Don't you dare harm him," another voice urged and immediately Harry recognized it as Minerva's. He didn't like the edge to her voice but there was nothing he could do; it was all he could do to keep from passing out at this point. The pain had increased no doubt due to the proximity of Devon or perhaps Voldemort.

"I shall do whatever I like."

"We have you surrounded," Kingsley's voice called from across the expanse of the clearing.

"If you had me surrounded I would be dead by now," the vaguely familiar voice proclaimed arrogantly. Harry would have recognized it as Devon's from Minerva's memories but with the new thought of Voldemort having risen it gave him pause.

"Surrender and we will spare your people's lives," Mr. Weasley announced as he too walked slowly toward where Harry and Ginny were kneeling on the ground.

Minerva watched the proceedings with bated breath. How could they be so foolhardy as to attempt a rescue; for there was no other reason for them to be here. She had told them specifically not to mount one yet here they stood in great peril of being killed. Not only was Tom back but he was angry. His plan of surprise had been dashed when his camp and his very existence had been discovered. Then as if lightning had struck her she almost fell to the ground in shock.

_They had found the memories._ There was so much going through her mind that she only now realized the full gravity of the situation. If they were here than this small group had surely watched the memories which she had specifically pulled for the purpose of defeating Tom and Devon. But it made it no less painful to realize that so many now knew her deepest secret.

"I must say that this is a surprise," Tom said ignoring Arthur's outburst and Minerva snapped her attention back to the present. "No doubt Minerva's doing of course."

"How could I have possibly told them of this location?" She questioned scathingly. Arguing with him might give them time to formulate a new plan of escape and she would do everything she could to distract Tom from his course of vengeance.

"I have never doubted your powers Minerva," Tom said silkily turning quickly to see her face. His voice may sound calm and relaxed but he was far from it; Minerva could see the tense way he held himself. When he turned back to face the crowd she took a moment to look around, quickly spotting the familiar faces of all those gathered. There was Kingsley standing apart on his own viewing the scene with a critical eye. Close to Kingsley stood Charlie, Bill and Fred who all had their wands held tightly in their hands ready to fight in the blink of an eye. Percy, Ron and Hermione were standing with Molly not far from them while Arthur had run to where Ginny knelt next to Harry. Minerva would have been furious at the whole lot of them if not for the determined looks in all of their faces. As it were she could barely keep her heart from clenching in pain at the thought of having to witness their deaths. She had already witnessed so much, had been the cause of so much pain, that she could not look any of them directly in the eye.

For the first time she really noticed the lack of her wand and she closed her eyes briefly in frustration. Opening them she immediately noticed the subtle steps that the group had taken toward her location. Only her acute perception for details gave her this advantage while Tom was too arrogant in his assumptions to notice. She also noticed that none of Tom's followers had their wands with them let alone their wits. They were still drunk on the idea of their Master returning and it was clear by the dazed look in their eyes.

Minerva felt a burst of hope as she realized that they may yet live through this. Now if only she had a wand the chances would be more in their favor.

"You could not have come at a more opportune time," Tom started and then walked closer to where Harry and Ginny now stood. "In fact we were just celebrating and you are more than welcome to join us."

"Stop toying with them Tom," Minerva ground out and received a cheeky grin in return.

"Tom?" Hermione squeaked. "Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes," Tom answered haughtily. "Who did you think I was?"

"Devon," Harry managed, despite the pain, to sound calm.

Instead of laughing at their misconceptions, Voldemort instead turned to Minerva with a stormy look. His eyes flashed a brilliant shade of red and he stepped to her grabbing her arm painfully.

"You thought to tell them of our son so they might rescue you from him," he growled.

"I did not tell them anything," she returned. No matter how hard she tried she could not control the fear which played on her face. His anger was palpable and she feared it would explode in a torrent of destruction on those gathered.

"Your eyes tell a different story. So what is it Minerva; the whole sordid tale or just the highlights?"

"She's telling the truth," Hermione spoke up.

"I was not talking to you mudblood," Tom spat not bothering to face the young witch. Minerva knew he was angry because of his crude use of language. Only when he was violently angry did he hurl insults like the one he just threw at Hermione.

"It doesn't matter," he went on and gripped her arm harder and dragged her in front of him as he turned to face the group. "Their deaths shall ensure our little secret."

"I should think his death would have done that just fine," Minerva said.

"We shall see," he muttered so only she could hear.

"We know everything," Harry announced boldly. "And you're right, it doesn't matter how we know, only that we do and this is going to end tonight. You have no more horcruxes to depend on."

"I may not have horcruxes but I do have my powers boy," Tom retaliated viciously. Still holding Minerva in front of himself he began the fight. Jets of sinister light were flung at Harry and Ginny but they just barely managed to jump out of the way, Harry getting used to the pain which allowed him some semblance of balance.

Mr. Weasley gave a great shout and shot his own curse at Voldemort. Deflected easily, it bounced off into the night and was swallowed by the deep shadows. It illuminated the many people still gawping at the scene, their nakedness forgotten in the heat of battle. For as soon as Tom threw the first curse many others had followed. The Order members were concentrating on deflecting Voldemort's curses while also sending their own on his remaining followers. They went down easily due to their confusion and surprise. Soon all that remained was Lord Voldemort himself.

Minerva was still held tightly in front of him and none of her rescuers wanted to chance hitting her with a misplaced curse. So they circled him and were slowly advancing despite his best efforts to keep them back. However, this did not mean that Tom's prowess was in any way hampered. He alone could take them but something told Minerva that he was holding back.

Because of her?

She doubted that but then again he always had the uncanny ability to shock her with his actions. The arm snaked around her waist was slowly squeezing harder to the point she feared he would break a rib. Waiting for the perfect moment she was rewarded when his attention from her strayed for a split second. Deciding quickly she brought her elbow up and slammed it into his stomach, grabbing his wrist and twisting it back until he dropped his wand. There was a short scuffle in which she struggled to gain a firm hold on the wand and with a triumphant look she twirled around and pointed it straight at his heart.

"You won't and we both know it," he said softly. There was that cocky arrogance which she abhorred but buried behind that she saw a flicker of fear.

"Once upon a time you would have been right," she said shakily. Her emotions were catching up with her and the outrage at what he had done to her shook her to the core. It was anger, resentment, hate and disgust all wrapped in a neat little package.

"I know you Minerva," he pointed out, his tongue sliding over her name seductively and she shivered.

"You know nothing," she snarled and steadied her arm holding the wand tighter. It felt odd in her hands, strange and completely alien. "You have taken so much from me."

"I have given you everything," he argued but remained still. She could feel the intense gazes of the group but ignored them as best she could.

"Everything but what I wanted most. No more Tom, this will end tonight. I think it only fitting that the wand which has shed so much blood shed that of the master who has wielded it for far too long."

"Minerva."

The jet of green light shot from the tip of the wand cutting off whatever he was about to say. It hit him with such force that it knocked him over onto his back where he lay sprawled and broken, red eyes staring unseeingly into the night sky.


	21. Time Cannot Erase

TIME CANNOT ERASE

Minerva walked to her chambers subconsciously holding her breath. The last time she had been there had been the dreadful morning when Devon had abducted her. Thinking of her son she gave a start at the awful realization that he was gone forever. As much as his very existence had always pained her she still felt the loss of her child no matter how twisted he had become.

Without realizing it she had come to a standstill on the threshold, something holding her back from twisting the handle and walking in. Would she really be able to face all the memories? She had thought for a brief moment how wonderful it would be to leave, take off and never look back. It had only been a fleeting thought, one that she had banished quickly. But nearing her rooms she had another moment's doubt. From the time that she had started seeing Tom up until last night, her life had been a whirlwind of confusion, pain, and secrets. As quickly as the life had left Tom the weight of it all had been lifted. Opening this door seemed like she was inviting all of it back in. Warring within her were two very strong feelings: logic and emotion. Logic was telling her that it was over; he was gone and could do no more damage. Emotion was screaming at her to leave it be, don't open the proverbial Pandora's box hidden beyond the door. Both were strong and it left her standing stiffly with indecision.

"Professor?"

Minerva jumped, her heart hammering against her chest fearing the worst before she realized that the voice belonged to Hermione. Turning to face the young woman she was instantly warmed by the concerned look in her eyes. Only a few days earlier and she would have felt slightly put out by the pity but after what had only just happened she could only feel fortunate to receive such support.

"Hermione," Minerva said before turning back to face the door. "I imagine you're wondering what your old professor is doing staring at a door."

"I imagine she's going through hell," Hermione said softly. Walking up to stand next to Minerva she slipped her hand through the professor's cold fingers and grasped them gently.

"Oh Hermione," Minerva sighed squeezing her hand in return. "Am I being foolish?"

"No!" Hermione said forcefully. "You have never been foolish."

"You give me far too much credit."

"It is never foolish to grieve for a lost child. No matter how evil he was, Devon was still your son." Hermione talked with such genuine fervor that Minerva once more felt a rush of warmth spread through her.

"That's the thing," Minerva sighed and turned back to face Hermione. "He was _my_ son and look what he became."

"He became what Tom Riddle raised him to be. I have no doubt that if you had managed to get Devon away from his influence he would have been –," she was cut off by Minerva who took a deep shuddering breath.

"Please don't," Minerva asked.

"He would have been a damn decent man."

Cupping Hermione's cheek gently with her palm, Minerva's eyes welled with tears and she took a moment to gather herself before talking.

"That has been one of the biggest comforts to me throughout all of this," she turned back to face the door. "You found the memories?"

"Yes," Hermione answered meekly.

Minerva nodded slowly and reached out to grasp the door handle, letting her other hand fall from Hermione's face. Standing there she could feel Hermione's concern and once more took comfort in it.

"I know it's illogical to fear opening this door but everything in me is screaming at me to turn and run."

"Professor," Hermione began but stopped when she could not think of anything to say. There were many things she could say but none would be enough in this situation.

"Minerva, please call me Minerva."

Hermione nodded but otherwise stayed quiet; letting Minerva decide on her own if she was really going to face all her demons. The demons which now only lay beyond the wooden slab in front of them. Demons of memory gone forever in the flesh. It was hard to describe how intense the moment was as Hermione watched the indecision and subtle fear flash across Minerva's face.

"If I may Minerva," Hermione began softly, "is it not possible to think of yourself for once. In all the memories I witnessed you never once stopped to consider yourself or your own wellbeing. All your motives were centered around those you cared for. Maybe now is the time to listen to your heart and do what you want instead of what you think needs to be done."

"Do you really think it's that easy?" Minerva asked. She was not trying to be contradictory, quite the opposite in fact. Her tone implied pure curiosity tinged with the subtle hint of hope.

"It can be."

Minerva considered her emotions for a long moment, really examining them. She was brutal in her evaluation and it left little in the shadows. Dredging up everything she was feeling she came to a sudden and firm realization. There was no way around this; the rest of her life would be a pale impersonation if she did not finish this here and now.

Hermione was holding her breath waiting for Minerva to decide the next course of action. Her head lifted slightly when Minerva reached for the door handle and turn it without hesitation. The door swung inward and the tension seemed to leave the older witch as soon as the room was revealed. It was as she had left it; table knocked over with the armchairs toppled next to it. The blood leading into the fireplace was there but it had dried leaving only a rust colored stain. The morning sun was shining brightly through the open windows, the breeze blowing gently through the room.

"We didn't think to tidy up," Hermione remarked quietly.

"It's quite alright," Minerva said kindly. "More than likely it is a good thing. Putting it to rights will be therapeutic to say the least. I will never forget but at least I will finally be able to move on."

"It's what you've always wanted."

Minerva shot a sharp glance at Hermione but then softened. "I forget that you have seen my memories, the very ones no one should have seen."

"It must be difficult but please understand that we only watched them to find you."

Sighing Minerva turned away and faced the fireplace with a weak smile. "Of course you did, but at the same time please understand that it brings to light all the things that I am so deeply ashamed of."

Hermione had nothing to say in return and fell silent once more. Minerva continued her perusal of the room and finally took a step toward the fireplace. Reaching out a steady hand she traced her fingers lightly over the stone which stuck out ever so slightly from the rest.

"Somehow I knew that you would be the one to find them after all," she commented and felt Hermione move closer.

"Ron and Harry were duly impressed, as was I."

"Not the others?" Minerva asked quite confused by this new piece of information.

"They haven't seen it; they haven't seen any of it."

"How is that? You were all there, you all knew of Devon and the past between Tom and I."

Hermione gulped, "Well yes but only after we told them. I discovered the room and watched the first memory and only then brought Harry and Ron back with me."

"What made you tell them?" Minerva questioned softly. She did not want Hermione to think she was ungrateful but she needed to know the whole story.

"After viewing all the memories we were going to keep it to ourselves but when it became clear that what we were dealing with was extremely dangerous well," Hermione stopped shortly and went on, "well we decided it best if we gave the others all the information."

"Of course," Minerva said trying to sooth an obviously upset Hermione. "I only want to know exactly what happened. How did you find it?"

"The morning after the battle I noticed your absence and something felt wrong. I went looking for you and ended up in here," she waved her hand indicating the room. "That's when I saw the stone sticking out and it was odd. I pulled on it and something told me to stick my hand in. From there it was simply a matter of solving a riddle and watching the memories."

"Ah, the riddle," Minerva commented with a satirical grin. "How ridiculously simple to answer."

"Not exactly what I was expecting from you," Hermione replied lightly.

"How did Harry and Ron take the memories?"

"Well," Hermione answered quickly but at the look she received she added, "considering."

"As can only be expected."

"Minerva, if I may ask," Hermione began haltingly. "Whose blood is that? What happened that morning?"

"It's Devon's blood," Minerva answered without hesitation. "When I woke that morning all seemed so hopeful. The sun was shining and the nightmares had stopped," she paused a moment, lost in the memory once more. "Walking into the den I was completely taken by surprise when Devon stood from the chair and faced me. His eyes were so very angry and in them I could see Tom so clearly. That gave him the chance to send the first spell and I only just escaped it. Then he was on top of me, pulling me toward the fireplace where he had already lit a fire. Through the shock and confusion I remembered the room I had created for this specific purpose. I couldn't go without letting someone know about him and Tom. I fought him and managed to draw blood, pretending to grab hold of the brick for a handhold. He only laughed and pulled me harder into the fire where we flooed away. It was a small consolation knowing that I had managed to pry the brick farther out than the others."

"Lucky thing," Hermione commented.

"Very lucky," Minerva agreed. Bending over she righted one of the chairs and motioned for Hermione to do the same. "Please sit, I am far too tired to keep standing."

"What happened next?"

"The next thing I knew I woke up in the camp," Minerva began as she sat. Haltingly she told Hermione what exactly had happened in the camp.

"Bloody hell," Hermione breathed.

Minerva nodded and then her gaze came to rest on the brick.

"One thing is for sure: after all his careful planning Tom did manage to create the perfect horcrux."

"I believe he really did love you in his own way," Hermione remarked boldly.

"It is hard to fathom is it not?" Minerva asked and her green eyes landed on Hermione's face with all the weight of a brick.

"Harder than anything I've ever had to understand."

"I may never understand him and I do not want to. What I want is to live and with him gone I do believe I finally can."

They fell silent then, each lost in their own world of thoughts. Hermione was glad to have her professor back but at what cost? The haunted look in her eyes had dimmed but was still visible. With time she hoped it would heal the wounds which had cut her so deeply. But with the strength she had lived her life there was no doubt in Hermione's mind that she could do it.

Minerva's eyes traveled the room and were drawn to the dark stain of blood leading into the fireplace. The sun seemed to be spotlighting it casting it into the open with unsuppressed pride. She would never clean it, never letting herself forget the son stolen from her.

She would never forget the enemy she had become to him.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading and sticking with it. You lovely reviewers really helped to motivate me to finish, thank you thank you!**


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